Who Are You to Make Me Feel So Good?
by Jessica-Doom
Summary: Draco was no good at keeping promises. Not even a year had passed before he was feeling that itch to flee again. That ring on his finger kept taunting him, shining in the corner of his eye every time he started to feel content again. So, he runs. And he runs far. - (sequel to Who Am I to Choose the Boy that Everyone Adores?) *previously titled "Sorry That I Can't Believe"*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** **I had always thought that when I made a sequel to fic, it would be another happy one. It would be about Draco and Harry's wedding. It would be sappy and perfect. Little Teddy would be a bit older; more talkative, cute as all hell. Friends and family would come along and support the two finally.**

 **But I don't do sappy, happy endings. I'm not good at them. They don't make me happy. This ain't a romance novel, folks. So buckle up and get ready for quite a bumpy ride.**

 **Please remember to leave kudos and reviews! I haven't written in awhile, so it would be nice to get some feedback!**

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Draco, much like everyone else in the world with any common sense, didn't believe in coincidences. Especially not since he felt like the world had some sort of personal vendetta against him specifically.

Today was a day he had awoken with regret. It happened often, so this was no surprise, really. That dull ache was usually at the back of his mind, just present enough to keep a full smile from reaching the outer corners of his lips. And it was with that confused look that he turned and stared at the messy head of dark hair beside him in their bed, just as he did every morning.

From there, the day went by just as normal as it started. The blandness of work, the aggravation of continual human interaction, the desperate intakes of nicotine during small breaks and finally at day's end. And, thankfully, the walk back home. The sweet scents of the budded lilacs as he passed the house on the corner. The irritating yapping of the dog next door. The early evening's retreating sun beating down on his delicate skin. And the lurking promise that it would all happen again tomorrow. Just as normal and just as wrong.

The ache in his heart was heavier than he'd felt in a long time as Draco stepped through the front door. So violent was it that he had to tell himself to take a deep breath and calm down. He was not alone.

And he was expected to return that genuine grin.

"Hey," Draco muttered softly, using the excuse of untying his shoes to break the intimidating eye contact. "What's for dinner?"

Those kind eyes, blue as impenetrable ice, showed him that his partner had not a single doubt in the world. "Portabella mushroom burgers and olive oil garlic purple potatoes. They're on the grill outside. How does that sound?"

"Like I hope you don't set the grill on fire this time." Draco forced a smile, pushed aside his fears for the moment. He was here for a reason. He was happy. He was. The other man flushed a dark red at the trudged up memory. "I'm only kidding; it sounds wonderful, Shea."

The hesitant demeanor had washed away for the moment. Draco was relaxed. He was home. He was where he had allowed himself to feel happy. Padding across the floor, in only his socks now, he leaned in to give the other man a proper greeting. His fingers came up to tangle in the strands of brown hair at the base of Shea's neck. His lips found the other's easily, an action perfected after three years together. Three hard years of trying to forget; remapping all those thoughts and feelings inside of him with something entirely different. And yet so familiar….

The similarities were the hardest part. The first time Shea had slipped on a pair of glasses, replacing his contacts, Draco nearly broke down. They weren't round-framed or in any way like those he knew too well, but it was _enough_ to make him falter.

Dark hair that refused to lay flat. Olive skin that tanned to a rich bronze. A terrible penchant for leaving things half-finished. The red flush that crept slowly over his chest when Draco got down on his knees, coaxing life into his cock.

And yet…they were still so different. Just different enough to make it bearable.

"Hey, Astoria and Taylor are coming over in a bit," Shea interjected, placing a soft hand on Draco's chest and giving them some distance. "You should get changed."

The kiss, and the memories struggling inside of him, left Draco with clouded eyes. His fingers trailed Shea's waistband, giving a small tug when he reached just above the button. "Maybe you should come help me change…." His voice dripped with heavy heat and obvious desire.

"Later, Sugar. I have to make sure the grill isn't on fire…again." Shea winked, swinging his hips as he walked away. His small figure was enough to drive any man wild. A curvy bubbled butt, muscles perfectly formed from years of vigorous yoga, and the soft androgynous face of an angel.

Draco changed out of his uniform quick, afraid to be alone with his thoughts for too long today. When he returned to the kitchen, Shea had everything ready. He was prepared, as always – dutiful and punctual. "A letter came for you, by the way," Shea said, slipping out the backdoor. "Looks fancy!"

"It's probably just the cable company trying to get us to come back. That's how they trick you into opening the damned things. Don't know what accomplishes, exactly…." Sure enough, there was a small envelope on the top of the mail stack by the fridge. He picked it up, examining the pearlized paper as he followed his boyfriend. He slipped a cigarette between his lips, flicking a lighter until his lungs began to fill with smoke. Relaxing him. Numbing him to the wild possibilities running through his head.

Shea watched Draco take a seat at the patio table, not bothering to hide his curiosity. "There's no way it's from the cable company. It's postmarked international. Maybe it's from your parents? Though I don't know why they wouldn't put a return address on it."

 _Because it's not from them…_ , Draco thought, feeling a deep pit open in his stomach. He slipped a finger under the flap, sliding it across the seal. Severing the only thing keeping the secret in. Suddenly his deep regret earlier made sense. It was a sense of foreboding. There was only one person this letter could be from. Suddenly he wasn't sure he even wanted to open the envelope.

He took a never-ending drag on his cigarette, sneaking a glance up at Shea. He was being watched carefully, the other man trying to discern the look on his face. "Well?"

Draco exhaled a rush of smoke, recklessly tearing the envelope the rest of the way open. The first thing he felt was cardstock between his fingers. The second was the pit extending from his stomach down to the ground. Like his whole body had dropped away, leaving him a floating mess of nerves. "Fuck," he whispered as his eyes scanned the front of the folded card.

"Merlin's hairy, white ballsack – what the _fuck_!"

There was a buzzing so loud in Draco's ears that he hadn't even heard the girls arrive. Shea was busy taking the food off the grill, otherwise his look said he'd be at Draco's side in a heartbeat. "Why is Astoria bringing out the weird swears? What's going on?"

Draco felt Astoria's hand on his shoulder, soft and comforting. Taylor and Shea were both looking on, concerned, but ultimately gave them a little space.

 _You are cordially invited_

 _to the wedding of_

 _Harry James Potter_

 _Charles Junius Weasley_

"Dray…I'm so sorry…. This is a major dick move and…and I'm _so_ sorry." Astoria just kept saying it over and over again. And the more she said it…the more Draco wanted to get up and punch something. And then maybe burst into tears. And possibly fall into a never-ending coma afterwards.

"It's fine," Draco whispered after a minute of awkward silence. He slowly set the invitation down on the table and shrugged. _Forced_ himself to shrug. "It's not a big deal, Tori. I literally do not care. Is the food ready, Lover?" To give himself something to do, Draco pulled himself up to his feet. "It's an invitation to my ex's wedding. I'm not traveling back home for that shit. It's a serious waste of paper and postage."

Inside, his heart was screaming something entirely different. It was tearing itself apart, heartstring by heartstring. He was devastated and had zero right to be. After all, he had been the one to leave. That could have been his wedding….

"Yeah, it's ready," Shea whispered, placing a gentle hand over Draco's heart. Feeling the erratic heartbeat that gave him away. "Sit back down; I'll get you a drink."

Draco sank heavily into his chair, gratefully accepting the cocktail slid into his hand. In addition to preparing dinner, Shea had taken the time to mix up spiked lavender lemonade. The first sip hit him like a relaxing wave. He didn't even try to stop himself from greedily gulping down the rest. There was another glass in front of him before he'd even realized it.

The other three watched him with wary eyes as they loaded up plates and joined him at the table. "The food looks great, babe," Taylor muttered, pressing a kiss to Shea's cheek.

Shea smiled, trying to normalize the evening. Trying to pretend there wasn't a thick haze of tension hanging over them. "I couldn't get any writing done this afternoon. I don't know…a case of the Fridays or something. Anyway, I had to get out of the house. I just…drove and drove until I didn't recognize where I was anymore. I was about an hour away or so when I stumbled upon a farmer's market. It was nothing like the one we have here. It was _huge_ and beautiful and everything smelt…like a farm fresh heaven.

"So, yeah…long story short – I didn't get any work done, but you all get to stuff your faces with wholesome American-grown food."

Draco let everyone talk and laugh and have fun. He even managed to force a few smiles and chuckles of his own. He could feel the occasional worried look aimed his direction, but chose to ignore them. No sense in ruining everyone else's night.

"We can hold off if you're not okay with it…."

Snapping out of his daze, Draco slid his gaze to his boyfriend. Taylor was in his lap, eagerly rocking her boyish body into his. "No, no," he rushed to say, "please go. Blow off some steam for me."

"We'd love it if you wanted to join…." The offer was just put out there as a polite front. Shea knew there was no way that distracted look was able to get in bed and be of any worth.

"I'm good," Draco returned, his tone just as necessarily polite. "I'm just going to nab a refill and enjoy the sunset."

Shea pressed his lips to Draco's temple for an extended second before disappearing into the house. Draco was left at the table, a nearly-drained pitcher of booze, and his best friend. The only one in the world who could read straight through his marbled expression. "Aren't you going to join in on the fun?" he muttered in her general direction, sitting up to empty the pitcher fully into his glass.

"No," Astoria said sweetly back, scooting her chair closer to his. "Not when I can see you're being torn apart from the inside out." He pointedly looked away, about to make a denial. "Hey, I know you, Draco. Don't tell me this doesn't hurt you. Don't tell me you don't still love him…."

Draco wasn't even going to try and deny that fact. He did still love Harry. He always would. There were no ill feelings there because that man had never done anything to him to deserve it. Moisture fogged his vision and he glanced back down at the tip of the invitation, peeking out from under his plate. An actual tear rolled down his cheek and he rushed to wipe it away. "I knew he'd move on. That was the point. I just…didn't expect it to be so quick. And I certainly didn't expect to have to face it so plainly." He slumped over, forehead hitting the heated glass with a thunk. "It hurts, Astoria…. Why did I do this to myself? Why did I do it to _him_?"

XxX

 _Draco was no good at keeping promises. Not even a year had passed before he was feeling that itch to flee again. That ring on his finger kept taunting him, shining in the corner of his eye every time he started to feel content again._

 _Astoria was still in America by the time Draco had come to a real decision. She was happy there. Thriving. Maybe Draco could be, too._

" _If I had known you were coming for a visit…. Well, I would have cleaned up a bit." Astoria was stunning, as ever. The Californian sun clearly agreed with her, as did the buzzed haircut that accentuated her delicate features. She let Draco in, busily trying to clear away dirty clothes and dishes from the apartment's quaint living room._

" _It's fine, Tori…I didn't have much notice to give. Bit of a rash decision. You don't…happen to have a spare bed, do you?" Draco folded himself down into the secondhand couch, tossing away a neon-colored phallic object that had prodded him from the cushions._

 _She didn't catch on straight away, smiling and shaking her head like he should know better. "Of course not. Since I'm a disappointment, I'm on my own financially. That means roommates, darling. If you can't handle the couch, you are perfectly welcome to purchase a hotel room." A sneaky smile crossed her lips as she settled down beside him. She must have decided that things were clean enough, even if the state of the room hadn't really changed. "So…please tell me the handsome_ beau _is coming along soon. It really would be brilliant to say that the 'amazing' Harry Potter stepped foot in my little place and watch my parents freak."_

" _Tor…," It was all Draco was able to get out before sobs cut his voice. He had been holding it all in since leaving. And that said a lot considering he'd been in no state to apparate and therefore had been on an airplane for nearly twelve hours._

 _He tried to speak, to explain, but only watery garbage came out. "Honey…I can't understand you. You sound like you're drowning in your own snot," Astoria nervously giggled, wrapping her arms around his shaking shoulders. "Did you two have a row?"_

 _Draco_ felt _like he was drowning. He couldn't breathe and his brain was nothing but fog. He was so used to arguing with himself nonstop since Harry and he had begun. Now that he'd finally made up his mind, his thoughts were silent. The heaviness of it was harsh and too-real. Crippling._

XxX

"So…are you going to go?"

The bedroom was dark but for the neon numbers on the alarm clock. Draco watched them flip over to midnight and squeezed his eyes shut tight. He couldn't sleep, not with the sudden surge of activity in his mind. It was pretty obvious that Shea was in the same boat. Or, at least a similar one, skimming along beside him.

"Would you? If you were me…would you go?" Draco whispered back.

An arm snaked around Draco's waist, pulling him in close. The night was hot – they always were here. They couldn't bear to sleep with more than a thin sheet; naked and intimate. It was almost more than he could handle right now, considering he wanted desperately to crawl out of his skin.

There was no answer. He hadn't really expected one. Shea didn't know the full story. Draco could never tell him all the details. Partly because Shea was a Muggle. That life was a whole world away from where he was now. Without knowing about the war and Hogwarts and…all the _shit_ that he'd done…. And everything that Harry had done that was _so much better_! Without knowing _all_ of that, how could he really understand why Draco had made the decision to leave?

The other reason? If Draco told Shea he had left because Harry was worthy of something better than his pathetic self…. What would that say about them? That was sure be the end of the decent thing he had here. A home, a bed, someone to cook for him. Someone to love him even though he probably didn't deserve it.

It wasn't that Shea wasn't still better than Draco. He was. The man was kind-hearted and extremely likeable. But he wasn't save-the-world Saintly. Just existing in the same space as him didn't cause Draco to rethink literally every decision he'd ever made. And Shea didn't know his past. That was important. He didn't have to feel like he was being secretly judged all the time.

XxX

" _Are you sure you don't want to find an apothecary to work at?" Astoria snapped a lid on the latte she'd just finished. "Here you go, sweetie. Enjoy!" She gave the man picking it up a teasing wink. He rewarded her in kind with a generous tip. With a winning grin, she turned back to Draco, taking the mugs he had just finished washing. "I mean…your apprenticeship is still worth something here. You're wasting your talents making sub-par, overpriced coffee for assholes who 'can't afford' to tip."_

 _Draco shrugged and smiled lazily. "So are you. For the record." She gave him an award-winning eye roll. "I need a break from that world right now. I can't stand to ben around anyone who might bring him up in casual conversation."_

" _Hey, who you gotta screw to get a drink in this place?"_

 _Astoria squeezed Draco's shoulder gently and turned her attention back to the register. "Well, that would be me, darling." She gave the man standing there a jaw-dropping grin and leaned in closer. "What's the poison of choice today?"_

 _The man's eyes were skimming right past Astoria. The instant he had noticed Draco, she became nothing but a wall to him. "Who's the new one?"_

 _She turned, her grin now sickeningly mischievous. "This isn't a 'new one'. This is my Draco. He's come to stay with me for a while. Bad break-up and all…." Draco busied himself with slowly drying a dish, praying that the heat he felt in his cheeks was imagined._

" _What kind of name is Draco?"_

 _All hints of bashfulness went out the window. Draco's ice-cold glare fixed upon the admittedly attractive customer as he delivered an easy retort. "It's a traditional Black family name." His words were harsh and heavy, wiping that proud smirk right off the other's face._

" _But you're white…."_

 _Draco actually had to stop and process that whispered state-of-fact. He didn't move a muscle but to narrow his eyes in a miffed squint. "Black…with a big 'B'," was all he came up with in response. His next move was to disappear into the backroom, eager to hide the entertained grin resolutely fixed upon his lips._

" _He asked me to relay an apology to 'Mr. Big B Black'." A few minutes later, Astoria had stuck her head into the room, giving the all-clear. "Good job humiliating the poor thing."_

 _Suddenly, Draco felt like he'd found an out. A way to slide into a new life. A way to forget Potter. He cursed himself for running to hide and worried at his lip. "Did he…maybe leave a telephone number or something?" It wouldn't have been the first time since he started working here. It had, however, been the first that he'd felt so at ease with the person who had done so._

" _Who, Shea?" Astoria snorted, pulling a Muggle portable phone from her back pocket. She flipped it open with purpose, furiously clicking buttons. "No need, darling. He's one of my loves. Occasionally. I actually met Taylor through him." Her eyes aglow with excitement, she clicked the phone shut and returned it to her pocket. "You are_ just _his type, too." She paused on her way out the door, turning back to give Draco a kiss on the cheek. "I just didn't think he'd ever be yours…. Muggle. Bi. One hundred percent a Muggle…. A sect of people your former allegiances wished to eradicate…. Regardless…I'm going to try my damnedest to get you on a date with him. It'll be_ so _good for you. Something different, you know? New."_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Took a little longer to get this next chapter done than I had anticipated. I thought I was finished, and then realized something was missing - thus the last segment was born. Tada! Brace yourself for sexy bits and culture shock. And please make sure to comment! Even just a small one makes me happy and fuels my fire!**

 **Also, I am currently in the market for a sounding board beta reader type dealy. If you like my work and have open hours to spare, feel free to get in contact with me. I need a friend to share my inner mind with!**

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"Fuck, Shea. _Fuck_." Draco clenched his fingers against the pillowcases, rocking back into the pressure.

He couldn't see Shea's face from his current vantage point, but he could feel the grin in the air around him. "'Fuck' good or 'fuck' bad?" Shea chuckled, thumbing a line down his boyfriend's arched spine. He ground in slowly again, earning another breathless noise.

"Good, Baby. _So_ goo- _Fuck_!"

"Your vocabulary is so vast," Shea chuckled. His voice was low and guttural, a climax clearly approaching.

Draco's arms shook, all of his focus trained on the intense waves of pleasure building through him. He collapsed down into the sheets, knees only held in place by Shea's fingers digging into his hips.

A couple more thrusts did it. He was on that edge, tumbling right over it, staining the sheets beneath him. Shea kept bucking until he came, riding the ripples of Draco's quaking body.

The sex cloud was a welcome escape. His mind was foggy and worn, filled with all the tingling nerves and aching cravings. Draco curled up in the sticky sheets, covering his sweat-drenched skin. Shea smiled at him from the end of the bed, his eyes half-lidded. Tired and satiated. He collapsed down there, pressing lazy kisses to exposed bits of Draco's leg.

"I think I'm going to go home. Just for a bit. Sometime this month…."

Shea paused, tilting his head up to meet Draco's hesitant gaze. "Bullshit. You're going to that wedding." He squeezed the big toe at his disposal, raising an eyebrow. "And I'm coming with you."

Draco was already flushed from exertion or he was sure he would have blushed dark red. "You can't come with…."

"Fuck you, yes I can!" Shea sat bolt upright, replacing his kisses with a harsh smack. "I've got a passport. I'm your boyfriend. I don't want you to run off and leave me here alone. I don't…I don't want to be left alone…while you fall back in love with your ex." He sighed, pressing his forehead to Draco's shin. "So many reasons, Sugar…. I _am_ coming with you."

This was the problem with choosing a partner just as stubborn as himself. Draco sighed heavily and turned so his face was firmly pressed in a pillow. "I just need to know that he's happy," he grumbled into the stuffing. He spread out on the bed, lounging in the early morning light and pushing Shea off in the process. His boyfriend hit the floor with an angry wail and a couple of thuds as he tried to climb back up.

Shea settled up next to Draco at the head, wrapping his arms snugly around him. Holding him just as close as he ever did, giving him that deep warmth in the root of his bones. "You have to bring me with…. He has to see that you're happy, too. Because you are happy…right?"

"If I tell you I am, will you believe me?" Draco whispered.

XxX

 _They didn't make it through a date. They didn't even make it_ to _the date, in the first place._

 _Draco took one look at Shea, standing in the doorway of Astoria's apartment, and lost it. He looked_ good _. Tight black pants, crisp white button-down, hair a goddamn mess, and face a fucking dream. Draco took one step out into the hallway, grabbing the man by his bright blue tie. The vibrancy of it made his eyes pop vividly. "Wanna skip ahead to the good part…?" he whispered, giving him too chaste a kiss considering where his other hand had landed._

 _Shea must have found it hard to say 'no' with all the blood rushing south. He couldn't quite seem to find the voice to say 'yes', either. Nothing but a shaken exhale left his lips as he pushed Draco back inside._

 _Perhaps Draco was itching for a release. Or maybe he just didn't know how to fake normal right now. Just didn't think he could stumble through an undoubtedly awkward date. Not that it mattered, either way…. It seemed they had both resigned to letting things go as they were._

" _I'm still dating your friend," were the first words Shea managed to grunt out. His shirt was already recklessly torn open, the button popped on his jeans. His fingers were tangled in Draco's hair and Draco was sinking down to his knees. "And…and other things. Fucking, m-mostly…."_

" _I know," Draco whispered, exposing heated flesh. He leaned in for a teasing suck of the tip, filled with pride at the shocked noise he produced. "And I'm okay with it – your guys' polygamy setup."_

 _It was Draco's turn to make a shocked noise. Shea had his hair in a death-grip, yanking his head back so they could look one another in the eye. "Poly_ amory _, not polygamy. Love, trust, freedom. Not selfishness and misogyny. Got it?" He didn't let go until the blonde head bobbed slowly up and down. "Now, are you gonna suck me off? I guarantee we won't be alone in this apartment for much longer."_

 _Draco couldn't deny the rush of attraction clouding his headspace. He obediently sunk back down into position, taking ahold of Shea's ample girth. All of the distracted thoughts were gone. He was sure in his decision in that moment, kneeling before this American beauty with the wicked tongue. Leaving his home and happiness had brought him here. To a manageable state. A place where he could feel okay and_ enough _. This man melting under his mouth had easily slipped right under his armor with a few simple lines and a stunning smile._

 _He was ready to be somewhere a little bit mindless. Somewhere easy._

" _I'm still in love with my ex…," Draco cautioned softly, feeling the other on the cusp of letting go. If he was going to let himself sink in to this, it was something that should be known. 'Love. Trust. Freedom.' All that Shea seemed to believe in._

 _Shea grunted in frustration, slapping the wall behind him. "And I'm in love with David Hasselhoff!"_

" _Who?"_

 _A laugh relaxed Shea's posture, but the urgent grip on Draco's chin betrayed him. "Seriously? Jesus…. Let me come on that sinful tongue of yours and I'll show you later. C'mon, Sugar…."_

XxX

"How about…vampires?"

Sighing in exhaustion, Draco leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes. "Yes, Shea. Vampires, just like every other fucking thing you've asked about, are actually real."

Shea hadn't budged on wanting to come to the wedding. He was quite adamant that Draco needed his support. He had even gone so far as to book them both plane tickets. It was now three days until the wedding and nothing Draco said was going to change his boyfriend's mind.

So…it became necessary to have 'the talk'. The talk that Draco had previously had zero desire to ever have with him. _Yes, magic is real. So are dragons and mermaids and ghosts. But, no, there's nothing to be scared of!_ The entire ordeal was made even more irritating with the material they were wading through, provided eagerly by the Magical Congress of the United State of America. Fraternizing with 'No-Majs' was perfectly acceptable these days…as long as the proper steps were followed. That started with a large textbook they both had to read through and would eventually culminate in an arduous amount of paperwork and a binding oath of secrecy.

"I feel like my entire life…is some sort of big lie. A conspiracy or something. Like… _Jesus_ …." Shea scrubbed a hand over his face. He looked just as exhausted as Draco felt. Like his world had just been completely rocked. Unfortunately, this had just started. Draco hadn't even gone into his background yet. If he was guarded enough, he hopefully wouldn't have to.

"Your life is just the same as it ever was, Love. If you don't have magic in your blood…." Draco sighed, trying to be careful. Gentle. They were too deep into this; there was no way he wanted to lose Shea now. "Nothing has changed. Now…can we go to bed? I have the opening shift tomorrow."

Shea was silent for a long moment. He snuggled up against Draco's leg, his eyes closed and his breathing slightly heavier than normal. Draco was quietly afraid he might have overdone it here. Sure, they had been together for three years. It was a decently long amount of time. Apparently it was enough time for Harry to move on and get married. Which, incidentally, was usually the reason couples went through the Magical Introduction Course….

Should _Draco_ have proposed by now?

"I was _obsessed_ with magic growing up. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis and…and the Shannara books. The librarian back home hated me, I think. I was always begging her to order in a better selection." Shea's voice was muffled by the covers, but Draco was so deadly silent that it sounded like a scream. "I always hoped and dreamed as a kid that…that it was all real. But you grow out of things like that as you get older…and start dreaming about realistic things. Love, commitment, stability, a decent fucking job. And just when I think I've grasped all of that….

Suddenly you showed up and my head is screwed up again." Draco jerked at the abrupt slap to his thigh. Shea was finally sitting up again, his lips pulled into what could have been a smile if his eyes didn't look so angered. "I was content with that, Draco! I was content with being normal! This shit is for _kids_ , Draco. Magic and fantasy and…all that shit. How is it that I'm expected to react calmly to this?"

The troubled expression his boyfriend was trying so desperately to hide soured Draco's stomach. He curled his legs to his chest, subconsciously pulling away. Feeling the need to give up because this was almost too hard. "It can still be 'wiped away'," Draco muttered against his knees.

The second whack to his leg was even harsher. He felt like he'd said something wrong, but at the edge of his brain, he knew the offer was rational. That still didn't stop the rush of words pouring from Shea as he repeatedly slapped the bed. " _Fuck_ you! Fuck you for even saying that! 'Wipe it all away'? Like I'm nothing? Like I'm just some hysterical fling? Like…like it's just that fucking easy? Screw you and your fucking stupid name! You _can't_ get rid of me that easy! Asshole."

Draco waited for more to come. He expected there to be more blows and definitely more blame spitting out of that tantrum. Surely, there was more to complain about. But nothing else came except for a heavy silence.

Shea eventually stopped huffing in breaths like he was afraid the oxygen was going to disappear. His body relaxed and his anger-reddened face returned to normal. Slowly, he curled up beside Draco, tears edging the corners of his eyes. For the longest time, they shared nothing but body heat. No apologies. No condolences. Not even a simple 'goodnight'.

They fell asleep in one another's arms, their breathing soft and deep. Shea had been the first to drift off. Draco followed him after a good hour, having startled awake after the first few times he'd tried. An itching paranoia kept creeping up on him that Shea was going to abandon him in the night.

A bit ironic considering. But on the plus side…at least now he knew how Harry felt.

It felt shitty.

Like someone had pumped espresso into his heart and then decided to plunge it in an ice bath. The erratic beating of it had him sweating, but the stilted way it froze now and again….

It was something he wished he could take back.

XxX

 _The silence in the apartment was awkward and suffocating. All around them, life went on, as usual. The sounds of traffic, the sirens, the neighbors screaming at their kids. No one outside of this small living space knew what had just happened. The world kept turning outside these walls, even if it felt like all of that halted in their secret space._

 _Just a few moments ago, there had been so much confidence inside of Draco. He had desired this more than he could contain. But now…. After all was said and done, all he could feel was regret. This felt too much like moving on. How could one small act feel so_ heavy _in his bones? Subconsciously, he kept wiping at the corners of his mouth. Wishing to erase any minimal evidence left of what had been done._

" _You know..." Shea was the first to break into the quiet. He sat on the other end of the couch, a good three feet from Draco. And, yet, still too close. The television was on across the sitting room, but neither of them was watching - only staring at it for distraction. The sound wasn't even on because they couldn't figure out the complicated receiver. Draco turned to look at him, that near-permanent blush climbing the back of his neck again. "I don't usually do things like…this. Not on a first date. Not, um…. Especially not when there wasn't a date had at all." It was Shea's turn to grow red, but he laughed it off easily. "I also usually like to get a person's sexual history before diving right into things. Oops."_

 _Draco's brow furrowed and he found it hard to make eye contact. He lost focus into the television screen again, shrugging these statements off. "Why would that be necessary? It was just a blow job. Right?"_

 _With an almost-matching shrug, Shea sank deeper into his cushion. The tension had only grown thicker between them with this line of conversation. Clearly the opposite effect from what he'd been after. "Right…but I suppose it could have ended up being more. Or…still could, eventually. I'm not closed off to the idea. I just like to be safe, you know?"_

 _No, Draco did not know. Safe had never really been something he'd worried about during sex. It wasn't like they had to worry about accidental pregnancy._

" _When's the last time you were tested? I usually get it done every few months. And I mean…if we're gonna do this…." Shea cleared his throat, an obvious sign. One made even more obvious when he closed the comfortable space between them. "Which I would like, by the way. Astoria is absolutely wild about you. She, uh…she thinks we'd be pretty good together."_

 _Draco could feel everything inside of him wanting to shirk away. Why was his body reacting so violently? Hadn't he wanted this, too? He shifted into the armrest, forcing a soft smile to his lips. Fake it 'til you make it. "Tested for what?"_

 _Shea burbled out a surprised laugh. "Oh, c'mon." For a few seconds, he seemed to genuinely think Draco was teasing. But the longer the dumb look stayed in his silver eyes, the quicker the giggles tapered out. "You're shitting me." He clearly wasn't. "For…for all those diseases_ nobody _wants to catch. The little things and the big things. And_ the _big one…." When Draco continued to give that same old blank stare, Shea broke for him. "What, they don't have AIDS in the homeland?"_

 _Just like that, a daunting barrier shot up between the two of them. There had been a lot of things Draco hadn't understood since moving in with Astoria. The culture shock was insanely real, both from the Americans and the Muggles. But, mostly the Muggles. They had an entirely different vocabulary that included things he had no idea even existed. Stupid little things. They had an insane dependence on easy transportation and convenient technology. They were always worried about shark attacks and what country they had to protect themselves from next. There were consistent blackouts and it seemed financial concerns were on their tongues at every corner. Some guy who drove an automobile for a living died and the whole country went into senseless mourning. Shootings, bombings, raunchy pop music, space exploration. They were always trying to win at_ something _._

 _He shifted uncomfortably, resisting the urge to pull his knees up to his chest. To shut down and hope to be alone soon._

 _But he was an adult. And that's not how adults handled things. These were the decisions he'd made and he needed to own up to them. No more running away. No more heartbreak. No more selfishness under the guise of doing what was best for other people._

" _I've, uh…." Draco couldn't meet Shea's eyes. He couldn't ever remember feeling so uncomfortable. At least not in this way…. "I've only ever really slept with a few guys. A few guys within an enclosed circle. This…stuff you're talking about…. I've never had to worry about it, before. I don't even know what AIDS is, really. I think I saw something about it in a newspaper at the café once. Something about African babies." He sighed heavily. "So, no, I've never been tested for all that shite. Sorry. But…I'm pretty sure I have nothing contagious. Haven't been violently sick since I was a child, I swear."_

 _The air around them was viciously silent once again. Shea couldn't take his eyes off Draco, his mouth agape in disbelief. And Draco couldn't manage to take his gaze off of the nicotine stains on his fingernails. The longer he stared, the harder it was to resist running for the pack on the kitchen counter. And the longer he resisted, the further his thoughts drifted. Mostly to the person he associated that nicotine stench with. The reason he'd taken up the habit, in the first place._

 _His yearning must have been a mite less than subtle. Shea launched himself up from the couch, obviously desperate for a distraction himself. "Here," he whispered to Draco, handing him the pack of cigarettes. "You look like you need a release."_

 _Draco smiled at him softly, nodding and accepting gratefully. "Thanks. Uh…it's a bad habit. I know that." He tapped one out and slipped it between his lips, glad to inhale a deep lungful of smoke a second later. "But it's how I keep my shit together right now. It's just…a small connection to myself. Or…my old self, since I'm here to start over."_

" _Don't worry. I don't mind it." Shea settled back down into the couch, as close to Draco as he could be without being in his lap. "I mean, I don't smoke. I do, however, enjoy the tingle of nicotine in a deep kiss." He squeezed Draco's knee gently. Their eyes finally met fully, both a bit calmer and managing matching smiles._

" _I'll go get tested, if you want," Draco managed to whisper, even though he was dying to scream and cry and run back to how things used to be. But to go back now would be cowardly. He needed to keep on this path he'd chosen. "For AIDS and…whatever else there is to test for. For you. But I've never done this before so…you'll have to come with me. Deal?"_

 _Shea lit up like a glow bug, a shit-eating grin permanently fixed on his lips. "Deal," he breathed out, snuggling further into Draco's side._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: A very kind reader over on , megp10, reminded me that it can't ALL be about Draco. As much as I'd really like it to be... So, yay, more cute Teddy-baby and a glimpse into the other half's mess. Please comment as well as kudo, even if it's just a small thing. I cannot express enough just how much I enjoy them.**

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One thing was for damn sure, Harry was never doing this again. This whole…wedding business. He wasn't planning on having to do it more than once, anyway. But if things didn't work out this time, he didn't think he'd ever want to get married again. This entire ordeal was just so _messy_.

"I think you're going to have to write Charlie and ask him to come back a day early." Since the beginning, Harry knew he couldn't handle everything. He wasn't put-together enough for this sort of planning. There was a lot that went into a wedding and he was sure he would have forgotten _something_. Chances were, that something could have been an important detail.

That was why he had recruited Hermione. She was absolutely built for this store of thing. Detail and organization and lists and appointments. Unfortunately, having her in control of everything wasn't making anything easier for Harry, himself. "I swear, it would have been easier to pull my own teeth than it was to get him back the day before the wedding. Two days before? It would take an honest to gods miracle."

Hermione sighed, the tip of her quill once again between her teeth. "Do you _truly_ think he can get all of this done in one day? Dress robe fittings and alterations, a rehearsal as well as the dinner, and a stag party with his brood of brothers? Plus everything in between like…making nice with guests from out of town and minor breakdowns?"

She did have a point, Harry couldn't deny that. But he also knew he couldn't change anything, so why fret? At least…that's what he told himself. This was stressful enough without adding his fiancé's worries, as well. "I'm sure he'll manage to squeeze it all in, somehow. I might even get to see him for a second, if I'm lucky."

By now, Hermione knew better than to reply. They were thinking the same thing, but she still wasn't allowed to say it. Regrets and what-ifs were an off-limits topic. It did not stop her, however, from casting a look downward that was the physical equivalent of "Yeah, right…."

"Look…I already sent him a letter the other day. I asked if he could get away sooner, but…he says they need him those extra few days. One of the new babies imprinted on him, or something. They think the extra day will help the whelp adjust to his absence. Makes complete sense, doesn't it?" Hermione nodded like she was supposed to, sipping her coffee with a near-convincing expression. Except she couldn't completely keep the sympathy from her eyes.

"Harry! Toast!"

A forced smile touching his lips, Harry pulled the bread out of the pan. "I burnt it again, little man." He plopped the dark slices on Teddy's coveted dragon-shaped plate. "Sorry, I'll start some more."

Teddy shook his head, standing on his tip-toes to grab his food. "I want Harry Toast. With peanut butter!" Misjudging the distance, he stretched for the jar sitting all the way back on the counter. His socked foot slipped, causing him to whine as he tried to will his little seven-year-old body to be just a bit taller.

Taking pity on the boy, Harry pushed the jar closer to the edge. "Are you sure? Not even I would eat Harry Toast." Teddy nodded emphatically, tentatively carrying the plate and jar back to the table. He settled in a seat beside Hermione, little tongue sticking out as he slathered the paste on the blackened slabs. Harry watched him, his smile slipping into a genuine state, starting new toast for himself.

"Can I have a job, Miney?" The boy leaned over with creamy goo all over his hands, attempting to touch Hermione's carefully organized planner.

She hissed in a sudden breath and yanked the schedule back. "No, no, Teddy. We only touch with clean hands, remember?" He nodded cautiously, but still struggled to lean over and peek. Even though he couldn't read…. "I don't have a job for you, yet. Maybe later, okay?"

Teddy nodded and retreated back to his food, the mess spreading to his cheeks. Harry finished cooking his own toast, settling on the other side of the table. He also snuck a look at the wedding plan, forming a too-long list in his mind of what needed to be done in the next three days. His pre-wedding laundry list. And right at the beginning of it was the most important item to check off:

 _-Finally forget Draco and his fucking gorgeous face._

… _and the way he wrinkled his nose in his sleep…and the way they felt so fucking complete when they fucked…and how ruined they both looked that evening he decided to finally give up…._

"Hermione…," Harry whispered around a bite, his eyes fixated on a stain in the table. He didn't dare look up and meet his friend's questioning gaze. Not with those tears threatening to pour out at any second. "Is it…normal to be scared?"

"In general or because of the wedding?" she joked back, looking up with a grin. The laughter died before it could even reach her throat once she caught a glimpse of Harry's expression. He was terrified. She hadn't seen him like this in…a long time. Certainly not since the pressure of saving their entire world's existence hung over his shoulders. "Oh, Harry," she whispered, a hand finding his knee under the table. "Yes, it's normal. I was apprehensive before my wedding. Thank Merlin Ron was okay with eloping. I don't think I could have survived this whole process you're going through…. That helped. But, of course I was scared. It's a big commitment.

"But I think you're ready for this. And I know Charlie has his flaws…. Everyone knows that. That's why we all love him, though. That's why you love him. He's a caring and compassionate man. He loves his job. He's so _good_ with your godson. And I'm sure that athletic build of his has to be good for something." She attempted a wink, but as Harry refused to look up he completely missed it. "You're allowed to be happy, Harry. Don't let that scare you off."

Harry bobbed his head in a few measured nods before returning to his breakfast. Hermione was right. She usually was. Knowing that, it was easy to take what she said. He swallowed the conflicted feelings, each disappearing with the last few bites of his toast. By the time his plate was cleared, everything was resolved once more.

Three more days and all of this stress would be finally gone.

Three more days…and he would have his closure. Charlie would be his husband. His 'happily ever after' and all of that other fairy tale bullshit. The three of them would be a family and that's all there was.

After all, there was no point in looking back after the wedding. At that point, every single decision would be sealed and concrete.

XxX

 _A part of Harry always feared that Draco wasn't going to stay. Somewhere deep down inside of him, there was still that itching to leave. The ring on his finger couldn't stop that for long. Eventually, the little whispers at the back of his mind were sure to win out._

 _The waiting game he played was difficult. There was a constant weight in his bones and he over-evaluated everything the man did and said. If he was absent for slightly longer than warned, Harry would sink into a panic._

 _It was rather unhealthy, their relationship. More often than not, they were on edge with one another. They fought about the stupidest little things. They couldn't go a single evening without at least a small snap._

 _The heaviness of it all was almost too much, at this point. Harry was beginning to wonder if they were actually right for each other. If a marriage between them was really smart. Maybe holding Draco back had been the wrong thing to do._

 _Although Harry was heavily anxious of this fact, it was never something he thought he'd have to seriously worry about. Honestly, it was something he had hoped would resolve itself eventually. A fear that would just…fizzle out with time._

 _Instead, quite the opposite effect prevailed. Each passing day, tensions grew thicker. Words became sharper. Recoveries and apologies took longer and longer to brew._

 _By the end of it all, Harry was sure they were just as likely to kill one another as they had been back at school. Perhaps that was something they would never be able to fully change. Passion was an easy thing to skew._

 _Love could rather easily twist into a reprehensible hate._

 _This turning point came much too quickly for Harry's liking. One night, the two of them were happily finishing plans for Teddy's fourth birthday. Draco was in the kitchen, icing the cake while Harry sat at the table, finishing out the handmade banner. They each took turns poking fun at the other's efforts; Draco's cake was a bit lopsided and Harry had misspelled the world 'birthday', somehow. Their laughs were real and jovial, all signs pointing in that moment to domesticated bliss._

 _And then…an hour later, it was like none of that had ever happened._

" _I'm just not in the_ mood _, Harry. Can we just sleep, please? It's been a long fucking week and I am exhausted. If you want me to be at all functioning tomorrow…you'll let me sleep."_

 _Harry's lips paused in their trail up his fiancé's spine. His fingers still kept their grip on Draco's hipbone, the pressure full of obvious desire. "Not even just a quick one, Dray? Please…?"_

 _Draco tore away as violently as he could while lying down on the edge of his side in their bed. A low growl underlay his words as he curled closer into himself. "I said 'no'."_

" _And I said 'please'. According to toddler logic…that means I've earned a 'yes'." Harry chuckled, closing the gap between them once more. Clueless as always, he was still trying to turn the situation to his favor. Trying to be sassy and charming, knowing that Draco had once fallen heavily for that man._

 _But right now, all Draco literally wanted was to be left alone. His walls were up inside of his heart. The subconscious irrational side of him was pushing forward. It had been creeping up on them for months again. "Fucking hell, Harry, back off!"_

 _Their bedroom went eerily silent. It felt like all matter around them stilled, and perhaps it indeed had. There also seemed to be a dangerous flicker of magic between them. Threatening and electric. Like if Harry were to move any closer, he might just be greeted with an unintended curse. Much like the ones young wizards were susceptible to when they first started to acquire their powers._

 _Raw, dangerous, and unstable._

" _It's been weeks, Draco…," was all he could manage to whisper after several long minutes, laying absolutely immobile._

 _Very slowly, the air faded back to normal. The magic fizzled out and the hum of the world returned to them. Harry felt like it was safe to breathe again and he even managed to shift into a sitting position._

 _The night felt oddly reminiscent, even though certain aspects were almost entirely opposite. The familiar chill of fear sunk back into Harry's bones. He curled his knees to his chest, seeking a warming reprieve._

" _What have I done wrong?" Harry asked softly when it became apparent he wasn't getting an answer to his statement. Perhaps Draco had assumed there was no point in giving one in the first place. They hadn't had sex in weeks. It was a fact. There was no use denying it. And if he didn't feel like providing a reason as to why…. He technically wasn't asked for one, so why should he?_

 _This, however, did demand an answer. There was no way they were going to be sleeping anytime soon without one. And certainly not even with one…._

" _It's not you. You should know that." Draco was similarly curled up, but still remained lying in his small corner of the bed. He took up an unnaturally small amount of space like that, looking so fragile and frail. "It's all me."_

" _Are you thinking about leaving again?"_

" _Yes."_

" _Why?"_

" _I just…. I don't know if I'm happy here."_

 _Harry hissed in a breath before pausing for a drawn out moment. It wasn't the answer he was expecting. With Draco, it was never the answer he was expecting. "Do you…love me?"_

" _More than I've ever loved anything in my life before."_

" _Then why wouldn't you be happy here with me?"_

 _Draco's words were muffled as he shoved his face into the pillow. They sounded a bit wet, as well, indicating his raw emotions. "I thought…. I thought that I wanted to be a potioneer. I thought I would be happy putting those skills to work. But, I'm not. I'm overworked and unsatisfied. I thought I wanted to live here with you, but coming home doesn't seem to give me that spark of joy it once did. I walk into this apartment everyday with an unknown dread. And…and I_ thought _I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, raising your godson. But being here feels so_ suffocating _. I love Teddy, I do. But…I don't think I'm meant to be any sort of parent to him. I don't think I'm cut out for it. His mother was certainly better off not having any of the Black family influence in her life."_

" _So it's this bullshit again?" Frustration heating the ice in his bones, Harry sat back up. "You still think you're not enough for me? You still think I'd be better off without you? Because if that's it, I'm pretty sure we cleared all of that up before. I want you. You want me. That's all I need to know."_

" _No, Harry, that's really not the case this time. This time…it's all about me. I'm going to be selfish here and think about myself. I need to leave, Harry. I need to_ really _leave this time. I deserve to be happy, too. I'm sure you wouldn't deny me that."_

" _Then you should leave. Now. Don't waste any more of my time if you're not happy with me."_

 _XxX_

"Why didn't you tell us you were coming home?" Narcissa had been in tears since Draco had walked in the front door. This was the fourth time she'd asked the question and the fourth time he had shrugged in response. He hadn't seen her in three years. There were new lines on her face; worry wrinkles etched deep in her forehead. Draco couldn't take his eyes off of them, guilty at being the one to put them there.

"Your father will be so happy you have come home. He went to dinner with some… _friends_. Should be back in a few hours." Her eyes roved back to Shea, giving him a soft smile. Pleasant and obligatory.

Shea tore his gaze away from watching the house elf pour their tea in order to return the smile with seemingly permanently widened eyes. They had been fixed in that state since they had stepped foot in the Malfoy Manor. It was a definite shock – large and illustrious and those damned birds wandering the grounds didn't help. Draco was worried that it might have even been too much to spring on his lover. Shea hadn't spoken since. There was no way the Magical Introduction Course could have prepared him for…this….

Draco probably should have warned his parents. He should have at least maybe told them he was dating someone. He should have said… _something_. But he was a bit of a coward and feared their reaction, especially when it came to two things – Harry Potter and non-wizards. His parents were still through-and-through loyalists to their 'movement'.

Draco ghosted a few fingers across his boyfriend's skin, wincing when he met his mother's gaze. "So…are you two planning to get a place of your own, or do you plan to stay here? Which I would be completely fine with, for the record. I'm sure your father could be, as well, given some time. We would just be glad to have you home, Draco."

He cleared his throat softly, hating to bear this news to such a hopeful look. "We're here for the weekend. That's it. We head back to California Monday morning."

"You put your Muggle boyfriend through M.I.C. to come visit for the weekend?" Narcissa now looked both on the verge of crying and erupting into full-blown rage. The telltale sign that she knew her son was lying to her. "Most wizards only take that step when marriage is around the corner…."

With a roll of his eyes, Draco relaxed back in his chair. "Or when they're bringing their Muggle boyfriend to a wizard wedding. For the weekend."

"A wedding?" She was still skeptical, leaning in to close the distance he had created. "And who exactly is getting married? If it's important enough for you to come home, I would assume I would know about it."

Draco could feel the exhaustion sunken deep into his bones. Even though he had insisted that apparation was painless and easy, Shea had still insisted on the airplane flight. The long hours sitting in the uncomfortable seats with the smells of other people and screaming children kicking the back of his seat had taken all energy out of him. Which meant, he did not have the capacity for this type of argument with his mother. His head fell into his hands as he mumbled a name. The air around them went stale, so it was clear she had heard it. Bracing for the worst, he tangled his fingers in the blonde locks. His hair now fell past his ears, near to hitting his shoulders. The respectable thing to do would be to tame it. Pull it back or at least brush it. But that just seemed too neat. Too proper. Too much like how he should act.

And if he was going to keep running his fingers through it, anyway…. What was the use?

"Shea, was it?" Narcissa said gently, earning a cautious nod in response. "Do you mind if I have a word with my son for a moment? I can have the elf take you to your room. You can get settled in before we eat. And feel free to freshen up a touch." Her icicle blue eyes roamed over his appearance, lingering on the wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants.

Shea clearly absorbed the insult and nodded again, standing to follow the house elf out of the room. He threw Draco a cautious look on his way out, head hung low in unsure embarrassment. Draco made sure to mouth 'it's okay' to him before narrowing a near-glare on his mother. "Please don't treat him like that."

Narcissa feigned innocence, stirring her cup of tea with that cool smile. "Like what, my child?"

"Like shit under your nose."

Her nose did, in fact, wrinkle at just the thought. "Language, please. You are back in our home, now. You are no longer in whatever hedonistic patch of Muggle America you have been cooped up in for three years." She leaned in just slightly. Just enough to make Draco's skin crawl. How was it that one subtle movement could make him feel like he was a child again? "If only you had married Astoria Greengrass. The both of you would be in a much more stable place, if you had. You could have tamed her." Draco opened his mouth to defend his friend, but was swiftly cut off with a wave of his mother's wand. "I had brunch with Levana last week. She recently heard from that harlot you have been hunkering down with. She cut all of her hair off? And apparently…she currently has five lovers of both genders. Including one named 'Shea'. Since that is not a widely popular name, I will assume he is the one and only currently settling into your bedroom. Would that be an incorrect assumption?"

With his vocal chords silenced, Draco could only avoid his mother's gaze and bob his head in assent. "That is just so… _lovely_ , Draco. So indicative of your upbringing." Words stalled in her throat, as well, for a moment. It almost sounded like she'd forgotten herself for just that split second. So close to losing herself and completely going off on him. "You are better than this, Draco. You should be here, at home, finishing out what little you have left of your apprenticeship. You could get a decent job and make a better name for yourself. I have no idea what you have been doing while away. You apparently were incapable of writing a single letter. I am…certainly hoping your life has been far less wild than your friend's. I am hoping that you have made…better choices with your time away.

"But bringing home some Muggle boy that you share with your loose best friend?" Narcissa didn't need to finish her statement. The words were written clearly in the way she was looking at her son. Her eyes were shining with tears she wouldn't allow herself to shed. Her lips were pursed, holding back any harsher words she might not be able to take back. And the disappointment tearing her heart apart bit by bit? Draco could feel it as if it were a tangible thing he could hold in his shaking hands.

"At least when you were with that _Potter_ boy…. That was at least something I could be quietly proud about."

The spell relaxed as Narcissa lost focus, her attention concentrated on remaining composed. "Mum," Draco whispered, his voice cracking on the word. "Mum, I'm sorry…." She wasn't going to let him see her cry, but he didn't have that much control. Tears ran down his cheeks like a fucking faucet.

The loudest thoughts in his mind were the torrential outpour of screams he wanted to aim at Astoria the next time she was in earshot. He couldn't for the life of him understand why she would tell her mother these things. Except…yes, he could. She loved to know she'd made her parents squirm. But, somewhere underneath all of that anger, there was a deep throbbing of pain. Empathetic pain. It had certainly been a long time since he'd felt this level of anguish from his mother.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Long story short, meant for this chapter to go a different way. Ended up having to rewrite the whole thing when it felt forced. That's what took so long.**  
 **As always, please leave a review! They certainly do their part to get my motivated to write. And I GENUINELY want to know what everyone is thinking. Seeing a lot of views coming my way, eager to hear what everyone thinks. Enjoy!**

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"I really don't think I feel comfortable staying here."

They were the first words Shea had spoken since they had stepped foot into Malfoy Manor. The rich, delicious scents of dinner were wafting up the stairs and into Draco's childhood bedroom. It was just as he had left it – the same navy-colored bedsheets and all of his old school things. Shea was the only thing changed from how he remembered it. It was almost jarring to see how different he had become.

Draco finished securing the last button on his shirt, checking his reflection in the mirror for any missed flaws. "We're perfectly safe. My parents aren't going to murder you in your sleep. I don't think, anyway…." Had this been five years ago, he knew for a fact that would have been a lie. But these days…. Well, they had to be more open, didn't they? The world wasn't in a dangerous balance that could easily tip their way any longer. Dark magic was once again confined to shadows and secrecy.

That included throwing curses at a boy's boyfriend to merely help him move his life along.

However, for good measure, Draco made a mental note to put up a few wards to his room before bed. Lucius wasn't exactly the type to follow rules…. And Draco had yet to settle on what he thought his father's reaction might be to this surprise.

"It's not about being _safe_ , Draco," Shea hissed, lying down upon the bed behind Draco and curling up into his side. "It's about your mother looking like she wants to chew me up and spit me out into a giant pile of mud. And the creepy elf thing that is apparently your slave. And…and you never told me you were rich! You live in a goddamn castle, for Pete's sake."

A soft, humorless smile touched Draco's lips as he crossed over to his boyfriend. "It's only for a couple of days, Love. And, besides, it's not even near to being a castle." He pressed a kiss into his boyfriend's temple, taking comfort in the sheer realness of him. "Just an uncomfortably large home with excess space to run around." Not that this had ever even been permitted when he was a child…. "Now, stop fretting and put on your trousers. Loose dick is not permitted at the dinner table."

Shea let loose with a groan, rolling over onto his stomach. "Any chance I can…feign being sick? Stay up here until that wedding tomorrow?"

Draco forwent his fears of wrinkling his clothes and flopped down next to the man. His arms circled around his neck, fingers splaying in his dark waves. "I'm pretty sure that's a 'no'. I need you down there. My mother postponed dinnertime so that my father could be home for this. I will most definitely need you to keep me sane."

"Is your dad that bad?" Shea laughed, turning a bit in order to snuggle into Draco's chest. His lips found the bit of skin in the section of Draco's shirt left unbuttoned. The tension in the room felt palpable against their skin. In that moment, with the heaviness of that weekend hanging over them, it felt nice to feel something different. Something positive. Something they could hold onto when things were rough.

With a smile, Draco easily gave in. He pulled the other up closer, stealing a rough kiss from him. A rough kiss that led to a heavy touch and a needy groan. "Just a quick one," he whispered, now glad Shea hadn't yet decided to finish dressing.

And then came the clear of the throat to send reality crashing back down around them. Draco froze, knowing that sound absolutely anywhere. His face flushed deep red and the heat crawling across his body dissipated like a bruised dirigible plum.

Shea made the mistake of looking at the door first. He paled in drastic comparison to his partner and tried to bury his head in the duvet. "I think your dad…just saw… _us_."

There was no 'think' about it. Draco was one-hundred-percent certain that his father had just walked in on them just short of having sex. He sat up very slowly, gaze turned down to the floor in submission. "Father," he whispered, running fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix it. "I wasn't aware you were home already. We were just…coming down for dinner."

"That is…most definitely what it looked like," Lucius said coolly and gripped the top of his walking stick with both hands. "If your _friend_ could get dressed…dinner is, in fact, ready. Your mother would like for you to come downstairs."

Draco nodded obediently, holding his breath until the door snapped harshly shut. " _Fuck_." His head sunk into his hands, his entire body numb from embarrassment.

Beside him, the pressure decreased on the bed. Shea grabbed around for the rest of his clothes in desperate haste. Draco felt like he should say something reassuring, but didn't know how to even approach the subject. So he fixed the wrinkles in his clothes in silence, his rusty magic taking too long to work properly.

When he looked up, ready to go, Shea was standing at the door waiting for him. His face was masked in pure terror. Feeling much the same on the inside, Draco stepped up to him and planted a reassuring kiss on his worry-torn lips before going to exit the room.

Draco had forgotten just how long the halls were in this house. Every step they took just managed to prolong the suffering surely waiting for them. By the time they actually reached the dining hall, Draco's heart was beating so loud he was sure everyone could hear it. His hand was disgustingly sweaty in Shea's. His mouth was dry and he couldn't bring himself to make eye-contact with either of his parents.

"Ah, you two look so much better." Narcissa smiled – the absolute picture of perfection. She gestured to the two seats open at the shortened table. Draco was surprised the room was set so intimately. He had gone most of his life with that impossibly long table greeting him for every breakfast. It was only shrunk down for…important meals. The day he'd received his Hogwarts letter. Christmas and birthdays. The night after they had all been acquitted of war crimes. And tonight, apparently….

Lucius and Narcissa were already seated at opposite ends of the four seats set. They made up what would be the 'heads', had it been rectangular in shape. But the square dimensions of it eliminated such dynamics. Which also meant that Shea and Draco were forced to be seated across from one another. This left no proximity for an escape of comforting hand holding or knee grips.

Giving his boyfriend one last squeeze of his fingers, Draco separated so they could sit in their 'assigned' spots. "Sorry for the delay. Feeling a bit lagged after that flight." He dodged an eyebrow raise from his father and cleared his throat. Attempting to build confidence. "Smells good. I've missed Snivy's cooking."

The table was loaded down with more food than they could imagine consuming. Dishes that, once again, he only saw on special occasions. It was beginning to sink in that this must mean a lot to his parents. Having him home again. Even if it was under circumstances they couldn't quite agree with. He smiled genuinely and reached out to load up his plate.

"Um…is there anything here that doesn't contain meat or…dairy?"

Draco looked up, reality hitting him harshly. "Right…." He scanned the food, all his favorite dishes – a roast, potato salad, an overwhelmingly large trifle, beef wellington, Yorkshire pudding, mince pies, a gorgeous pan-fried duck breast. Everything was either drenched in butter, lathered in dairy, or full-on made of meat. "I should have mentioned, Mother…Shea is vegan." She gave him a quizzical look while spearing a bite of duck past her teeth. "He doesn't partake in anything that is a product, or bi-product, of a once living thing."

"That sounds like such a flavorless way of living," Narcissa said gently and did her best to give an apologetic smile. "You might be able to scrape the dressing off of the potato salad."

With a sigh, Draco stood abruptly and threw his napkin down onto his plate. "I'll put something together for you, Love. Just give me a few minutes. Have some champagne."

He watched for his boyfriend's nod before walking swiftly from the room and into the adjoining kitchen. After a bit of digging in the cupboards, he came up with something rather easy and painless. Just a simple mixed bowl of fruit. He tried to make short work of it, cutting the berries at a methodical pace. By the time he heard footsteps in the doorway, his fingertips were carelessly stained with cherry juice. He looked up briefly, rushing to tidy his mess. "I'll clean up when I'm finished," he said softly and returned to his work.

"No need. That is what we have the elf for, is it not? It could have done _this_ , as well. " Lucius strolled casually over, setting his drink carefully on the counter beside the cutting board. He watched in silence for a moment, running his thumb repeatedly over the snout of the snake on his walking stick. "If you had warned us, we could have made arrangements. You know that, don't you?" Draco nodded slowly. "If you had written to us at all…."

"Yes, Father. I'm aware." A heavy weight was hanging on his shoulders again and he attempted to roll it off. It was this exact conversation that had him fearing being here in the first place. Not for the first time, he wished he'd invested in a hotel room. Bi-passed the awkward reunion. "I just…. I needed to get away. _Really_ get away. From everything."

Draco could count on his fingers all of the heart-to-heart conversations he had actually had with his father. Most of them had happened after he had finally come out to his parents. And most of them were like this. Awkward. Forced. Hesitant. They never felt natural…but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate the effort. Even if it sometimes felt like too little too late.

"Do you love this one?"

Unable to help it, Draco laughed at the way Lucius referred to his boyfriend. "That _one_ 's name is Shea. He's kind and funny…and cares about me. He's not Harry. No one ever could be…." He blushed again, finding it to be an annoyingly increasing habit of late. "But I think…he's good for me." It wasn't a direct answer to the question, but it would have to do. It was the only answer he had.

Draco finished the last strawberry and tossed the pieces into the bowl. Lucius lifted his bourbon to his lips, the ice clinking against the glass the only sound in the small space. Neither knew what else there was to say. Or, more like, neither knew how to say it…. Draco picked up the bowl and carried it back into the next room, his father following close behind.

"Does this work?" he asked Shea, setting the fruit before him. His boyfriend nodded gratefully and leaned up to snag a kiss. Narcissa rather audibly sucked in a hissing breath to their right and Draco tried his best to ignore it. Chocking it up to surprise, or…something else just as harmless.

As he resumed his seat, Draco could feel that pressure from before tripling in weight. Though he couldn't catch them when he tried, he could feel his parents' eyes on him. Watching him. Sizing him up and trying to gauge everything they had missed in the past few years.

"So…I trust you have been at least getting our letters," Narcissa intoned after Draco had greedily downed half of his plate in a few minutes flat. He met her probing look and slowed down, chewing a bite of wellington while bobbing his head. "And you just couldn't bother to send anything back with the owl?" He shrugged. "Well…at least you are accepting our owls. I cannot say the same for your friend. Does she even know what has happened with her parents?"

There was no ignoring or shrugging this off. This conversation was always going to happen eventually. He had known that the instant he had seen the broken look in his mother's eyes. Slowly, he set his fork down and gave a gentle smile across the table to his boyfriend. Shea was silently caught in the middle. He was destined to be all weekend. "No, Mother. She doesn't know. I don't honestly think it would change anything if she did. Astoria is very adamant that she was done with her family and all of the drama attached to them. It might even make her happy to hear that they were finally getting caught for their involvement in something. Her one letter of update seems to perpetuate that quite clearly."

Just bringing up the topic meant they were balancing on a dangerous line. Draco still had zero interest in sharing that part of his life with Shea. Unfortunately, this felt like a line he was going to tip-toe all weekend.

"Anyway, that's not what matters. I didn't come home to talk about Astoria. She wouldn't exactly be happy with me for it." Draco pushed his hair out of his face for the millionth time, growing increasingly frustrated with its lack of cooperation. Perhaps it was time to invest in the hair potion again.

Since they were all very aware of what Draco was home for, no one said a word. They just continued to clink their silverware and chew their food. Content in silence, for the moment.

Once Draco felt like he literally could eat nothing else, he pushed back in his chair and signaled for Shea to stand. "Dinner was wonderful. I know you had a part in making sure Snivy made everything I like, Mother. Thank you for that. But, um…we're both tired and should get some rest before tomorrow."

Narcissa stood as well, rather fast and abrupt. Her chair made an awful screech on the floor. "But you only just arrived home, Draco. Your father and I…. We want to catch up with you. Hear how you have been. We do honestly care more about that than Astoria's tribulations." She was giving him that awful look again. The one that said he had ripped open a part of her. The one that said it was his responsibility to fix it.

"Tomorrow is going to be busy…. But we have all of Sunday to catch up, Mother. I promise." Draco walked over to her quickly, forgoing his entire upbringing to wrap his arms around her securely. They hadn't hugged like this since he was a child. Since he had grown old enough to know better of it. She sobbed against his shoulder, falling into him and squeezing him as hard as she could.

"I've just missed you so much," she whispered into his neck. He could feel the tears soaking into his shirt, but couldn't bring himself to let go.

It took a few minutes for Narcissa to remember herself. Even when she did, she only looked a shell of that person. Her eyes were swollen red and there was a bright smile on her lips. She lingered in her son's space for a moment, caressing his cheek. "Don't you dare do this to your Mother again, do you understand?"

"I understand," Draco whispered, kissing her cheek before pulling away.

Clearing her throat in an attempt to compose herself, Narcissa nodded and gently pushed him away. "Go get some sleep. We will see you in the morning."

Draco intercepted Shea on his way to the door, muttering a soft 'goodnight' to his father as he passed. They climbed the stairs in silence, just as they had descended them an hour previous. This time, however, it was a much comfortable one. Draco held the other loosely around his waist, his fingers playing gently at the skin under the hem of his dress shirt.

"Did you get enough to eat?" Draco checked as he closed his bedroom door behind them. Shea merely dipped his head in response and made a bee-line for the bed. He shed clothes as he went, looking a thousand pounds lighter with each article that hit the floor. "Are you…okay?" Draco followed him, stripping down much the same.

Shea nodded once again, curling into the mound of pillows at the head of the mattress. "Just fine. Just…feeling a bit…." He sighed when he couldn't find the word. "I don't know. I just know I don't really belong here. Not in your perfect, little family. Not in your world. Probably not in your life…. Whoever your ex is…he's surely better than I am. Your parents wouldn't even speak a word to me."

"They never spoke a word to him when he came for dinner, either," Draco muttered, flopping heavily down beside him. "It was always extremely uneasy. Which is why…most often, Harry just wouldn't come. Even though I really wished he would have." He snuggled up next to Shea, holding him tighter than he ever thought he had. "Just so you know, you being here with me…it means a lot. It means everything.

"I know I didn't really want you to come with. I know I was very vocal about that. But now that we're here…. Now that you've taken the steps to be here with me…." Draco laughed, wiping at the tears in the corner of his eyes. "Attractive, right? Me and my 'perfect' family keep bursting into tears."

It was quiet. Draco made note that the entire day had been full of such periods of time. Not that it was uncomfortable most of the time. He knew that neither his boyfriend nor his parents really knew how to act in this situation. It was a strange one, that was for sure. One that he had planted everyone he cared for right in the middle of.

The last three years of his life were no mistake. That much he was sure of. But…he couldn't help but to think….

What if he _had_ done things differently?

XxX

" _Do you really want me to leave?"_

 _Harry, his tongue dry as a desert, found it hard to find the words. Inside, he was screaming contradictory answers. His head felt like it was going explode. This was too much and there was no way he had been prepared. How was it possible to even prepare for something like this…?_

" _I suppose your answer is clear, then…." Draco was up in no time, a furious whirlwind as he went about the room gathering his things. He had a bag conveniently ready in the closet, large enough to accommodate most of his clothes._

 _This was it. Just what Harry had been worried about. His world was crashing around him and…and it_ was _all his fault. He had been the one to suggest this, after all. If only he had kept his mouth shut. They could have worked through this. They still could, he supposed. "Dray, c'mon," he whispered, moving to stand, as well. "I didn't mean it. I'm just frustrated."_

 _Draco scoffed, attempting to close the zipper on his bag. "I get it. You haven't had the pleasure of fucking me in_ weeks _and it's so goddamn hard for you. So hard that you just cannot get over it in order to try and comfort your fiancé. Message received – loud and clear!" He finally managed to accomplish his goal, breathing heavily through his nose. "It's fine, Harry. I know…somewhere deep down you meant it. Just let this be easy. We're both…adults. We can act like it._

" _We're over. That's it. I can handle it if you can."_

 _The choking in his throat did nothing to help him pass his lie._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: In case none of you have realized...I thrive off of heartbreak. So here's this nice little slice of angst.  
Please remember to leave reviews! I love to hear what the readers are thinking!**

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 _Harry had been up all night. His bloodshot eyes and heavy limbs could absolutely attest to that._

 _His reflection was haunting. Overnight he had become some sort of grotesque_ thing _. Something he didn't recognize in his reflection._

 _This was what Draco Malfoy had done to him. It was what everyone had warned him would happen. In a way. Why hadn't he taken any of their advice?_

 _And, of course, it had to have happened to him just in time for today. Just in time for his godson's birthday. Just in time for the obligation of entertaining all of his friends and family in his apartment. Somehow, he was going to have to hold it all together to get through this day._

 _Unfortunately, somehow wasn't a practical word._

 _With a sigh, he turned away from the mirror and left the restroom. His moves were sluggish and slow as he walked across the apartment. The sun was beating in hot through the patio window. It was already late morning, on the verge of turning over to afternoon. He didn't even have to glance at the clock to know he was running out of time. He'd only managed to roll out of bed a few minutes ago and was expected to have a party roaring in the matter of an hour._

" _Harry? Harry, is it my birthday, yet?"_

 _Before he could hope to stop it, a groan slipped past Harry's lips. He lumbered over to start coffee and avoided the boy's eager stare. "Yes," he muttered. "Yes, it's your birthday. All day until the sun goes down."_

 _Not that Harry felt much like celebrating…._

" _I've been waiting all morning for it to be my birthday! Does that mean I can have cake now?" Teddy clambered up into his chair at the table._

" _No," Harry grunted. "You have to wait."_

 _The boy nodded and swung his legs back and forth eagerly. "Can I have breakfast, though? I'm hungry."_

 _The weight of Harry's selfish morning spent wallowing in bed hit him like a brick. He rushed around to throw together a bowl of cereal for the boy, setting it before him with a stream of apologies._

 _Though his heart was broken, Harry couldn't afford to be in a stupor. This child relied on him for everything. It wasn't fair of him to lapse in any of that responsibility. His grief needed to wait._

 _Teddy munched happily, none the wiser. Just a kid caught in the middle of something he couldn't understand. "Where's Uncle Dray? Is he getting my presents?"_

 _The boy was so innocent. He had no idea that what he'd said was going to send the world crashing around Harry again. He leaned heavily against the counter, gulping down his coffee like it was vital to his existence. His brain was so fuzzy and he had no idea how to answer that question. All he could manage was a shake of his head before walking swiftly from the room. If he was expecting company, he supposed he should at least get dressed._

XxX

Harry had been up all night. His hair was extra messed from running his fingers through it every other minute. There were empty bags of sweets littering his bedsheets and he was up constantly to refill his tea.

Charlie was late.

He wasn't just a few hours late. It wasn't just an excusable fraction of time. He was supposed to be home that morning and now…. Now the night was nearly turning into a new day.

The day they were supposed to get married.

Worry wasn't exactly the word Harry would use to describe what he was feeling. Abandonment, maybe. Fury, most definitely. Possibly even a hint of frustration. But he couldn't feel worried. This was so _Charlie_ , it was painfully predictable. Work came before absolutely everything else in his life. Last year he skipped out on their anniversary in favor of escorting a brood of dragons to China for some sort of festival.

But this? This was more than just a dinner they could postpone. This was a year's worth of planning that could very easily wash down the drain if he was careless enough.

XxX

 _Harry had been in a constant tailspin since that night. Breaking things off with Draco was supposed to be the clean end of it. It was supposed to be that serene light at the end of a long, worrisome tunnel. A calm in the storm._

 _The reality was more akin to the eye of a hurricane._

 _And then it all just…_ hit _. Harsh and dark and daunting. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't go to work or manage being around other people. Anytime he tried to climb out of bed, he felt like he couldn't breathe. He was numb. Just being in the world felt like wading through thick mud._

 _He was slowly suffocating, losing more and more of himself every day._

 _Teddy didn't live with him currently, either. When he'd begged Andromeda to take him, he had stressed that this was temporary. He just wasn't…good enough right now. Wasn't capable of caring for himself, let alone a child. The boy deserved better than that._

 _The apartment felt so empty without him there. He really felt Draco's absence in the silence. The stillness was crushing and entirely too real. And his thoughts…._

 _Why were they so loud?_

 _Sheer desperation took over quickly. Harry tried everything he could think of to drown out the screams and doubts. His most desperate and reckless attempt included cornering Lucius Malfoy in broad, Muggle daylight outside of the Ministry. Berating him for molding his son into the broken mess who had left him behind._

 _From there, things went rather rapidly downhill. Heavy drinking became a nightly ritual. He somehow managed to function during the day when he knew what was available at the end. Not that he had returned to bring a productive Auror, but at least he was showing up. At least he had something to keep his focus until he could drown his sorrows after hours._

 _But this wasn't enough for long. 'Nights' began to start earlier and earlier until there was no line between. Until alcohol was his main staple and sole confidant. Day and night and whatever else lies between._

 _And still, that wasn't enough for long. Sure, he was numb, but be wasn't distracted. His mind wasn't occupied, just fuzzy. Fuzzy and free to drift back to Draco, always catching him off guard. Always ripping his wounds back open._

 _Harry came to realize something with time. He needed the weight of someone else's body to drown out the phantom feel of Draco in his arms._

 _Although Harry wasn't sure anymore if he even liked women, that didn't stop his addled mind from going that route. Mostly, he assumed, because they weren't anything like the man he missed. Not in a physical sense, at least…. And, in the beginning, not in a behavioral one, either. He went for the sweet party girls. The ones who giggled about the 'walk of shame' the next morning. They were almost insatiable in bed; sufficiently able to wipe Harry out._

 _Of course…this didn't last long. He was finding nothing did, lately. He was running through vices at an alarming rate. These bubbly women weren't enough. The fact that they were so far removed from what he desired became a problem. Harry started to seek out different traits – blonde hair and sharp wit and surprisingly kind hands._

 _The culmination of it all came on a three day drunken binge. Harry's body was a revolving door. He was exhausted and desperate and couldn't find the resolve to quit trying to fill that empty cavern inside his heart. Until…._

" _Harry…?"_

 _Having taken up roost in a back corner of the Leaky Cauldron, it was inevitable that Harry would come across someone he knew. He was nursing a pint, trying to keep his brain fuzzy. Trying to keep all those whirling thoughts at bay. With booze-soaked eyes, he glanced up. Right in front of his table stood five and a half feet of tan-yet-freckled Weasley. His red hair was longer than any of his brothers' and possibly even his sister's. Everything from his heavily tattooed arms to the half-open vest he donned for a shirt differentiated him from anyone else in his family. And the way he carried himself screamed that he was damn proud of it._

 _Harry tried for a flat smile. "Hey, Charlie," he mumbled, ghosting his fingers over the condensation of his glass. "You…you're in London…?"_

 _The man frowned down at him, eyes seemingly unsure of where to focus. There was a lot to take in – the deep bags under his eyes, the dark overgrowth of facial hair, his clothes that smelt at least a week stale. "Uh…yeah. Yeah, I am. I had to run a few errands in Diagon Alley for the sanctuary. Figured I'd stay the night here before heading back to Romania early in the morning." Charlie bit his lip and narrowed his eyes just slightly. "Care for some company?"_

 _Harry snorted before gesturing to the seat beside him. "I've had worse companions these days…."_

 _Charlie settled tentatively beside him, ordering a water and some sandwiches when a waitress came over to check on them. "The bread should help to soak up a bit of the alcohol and, uh…you look like you haven't eaten much lately."_

" _Haven't been hungry…."_

" _How_ have _you been?" The longer he sat beside Harry, the deeper Charlie's frown became. Seeing someone so powerful, so inspiring in such a broken mess…._

" _I'm assuming you mean since the break-up?" Harry shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat before giving an unconvincing shrug. "You tell me."_

 _Frowning, Charlie reached out to push the glass away from Harry. The other man made a noise of protest, but didn't have the wherewithal to fight. "You don't look good, that's for sure. I'm willing to bet the smell coming from you is at least a week's worth of body odor, spilt grain alcohol, and cum from whoever will allow you a second of reprieve. There's a hole in the knee of your trousers and it's blood-stained. I'm supposing you fell and most likely don't remember it. A fact upheld by the unwashed wound beneath the fabric. You're a mess, Harry Potter._

" _Why has nobody come to fix you?"_

 _Of course, it was all true. It didn't take much to see that Harry was falling apart. But to hear it all voiced aloud? It was the type of rude awakening he simply wasn't ready for. Ducking his head, Harry lifted his shoulders in another helpless gesture. "Nobody cares that Draco is gone…."_

 _They were all very happy about the absence in Harry's life. Not that they had ever said it in so many words. But Harry could just_ feel _it. He was avoiding his friends – the only family he had – because he just knew they were ready to rub it all in his face. He had shut them out. He had to protect himself from any further damage._

" _Well, you care. Isn't that enough?"_

XxX

Their bedroom door creaked open just as the alarm began to sound. Harry couldn't help but to be impressed by the perfect timing, but easily pushed the thought away. Dazed from his sleepless night, he rolled and swatted at the clock beside his bed. His efforts proved useless once he'd knocked the thing to the floor, still wailing angrily at him. All he could muster in returned effort was a pitiful groan as he pulled the pillows up around his ears.

"You could just shut it off, you know."

In a second flat, Harry went from just slightly bothered to teeth-grindingly livid. He pushed up out of the mattress like it was on fire, snatching the clock from his fiancé's hands and smashing it against the wall. It stopped blaring, finally….

"Please don't be angry…."

The plea only helped to further the spark in Harry's belly. He would have laughed if he'd had any sort of joy left in him at this point. "About what, Charlie? About…my fiancé creeping into our bedroom a few short hours before we're to be married? About the fact that he failed to be here this morning when there were things he needed to prepare for the occasion? About…the tux that's going to go unfitted or the relatives who are going to gossip? About the massive dinner reservations I had to cancel because…what's the point in a rehearsal dinner if that was no rehearsal in the first place?"

Charlie made a point of cringing, painfully quiet. He seemed to have no excuse to give. Or perhaps he knew it was pointless. In the mid-morning muted light, the shining burn across his brow was just barely visible. Harry noted that he had a distinct ash smell to him and carried the heavy weight of exhaustion in his shoulders.

"Just tell me…. Are you sure you want to be married to me? Because if you don't…I just need to know now."

The answer Harry received stole any disbelief he might have along with the air from his lungs. Unable to help himself, he melted into the security of Charlie's arms. The familiarity of his lips was enough of a comfort to make him forget his resentment almost completely.

XxX

 _The morning carried a dauntingly familiar sense of dread. Harry felt heavy down to his bones. His head was screaming – an unsurprising aftereffect of his poor choices the night previous. The scrape he had apparently acquired to the knee now smarted painfully. There was an inescapable weariness to his being that made it clear that he needed more than just a few hours of sleep to recover from his sins._

 _For weeks now, these feelings were all persistent in one form or another. Almost forgettable due to their predictability._

 _Except…for one…._

 _All except for the security of a weight beside him. An arm across his waist. A breath against his neck. A tickle of someone else's hair so close to his ear._

 _He turned just slightly. Just enough to lay eyes on his latest mistake. A shock of red hair shone brightly against the starch-white pillowcase beneath. From there, it wasn't hard to pin-point the man next to him, even from his awkward vantage point snuggled up against the firm chest._

 _Harry hadn't slept with a man since Draco had left. And even then…there had been quite a span of abstention. So to realize in that moment that he may have actually been intimate with_ this _man…. It felt like a crushing weight the size of a troll was sitting on his chest. He was rapidly pulling air into his lungs, but felt like he couldn't breathe._

 _The solid mass beneath him shifted, encircling him tighter. Somehow managing to make him feel freer, even in the stifling hold. The arm around his waist shifted, fingers splaying across his chest. Feeling the erratic beating of his heart. The unshakeable panic coursing through his veins._

" _Do you remember last night?"_

 _It was painful, trying to remember. There was a thick, booze-soaked haze around his memories. It made his mind heavy and hard to navigate. Nothing was coming through clear. Certainly nothing that would indicate why he was in an uncomfortable, foreign bed with a man who was most definitely not…. Well, not Draco._

 _Charlie was_ so _far removed from any sort of levelling field as Harry's ex. He was a bit on the short side and rather stocky. Every inch of him was muscle - toned and roughened from the many years he had dedicated to nothing but work. There was a dark spread of freckles across every inch Harry had ever seen of him. Though he'd never noticed the little smattering across the bridge of his nose…. He was kind, gentle, and felt secure. Draco had been so…harsh in comparison. Or was that just how he was choosing to remember him?_

" _No," he whispered softly, choosing to try and bury himself in the surprising comfort of those arms._

 _With a semi-amused chuckle, Charlie pulled the other man closer. Allowing him to take whatever he needed to feel steady. "We talked. Nothing more, I promise you. Not that you didn't try…."_

 _A phantom flash of rejection hit Harry square in the gut. His stomach turned, threatening to expel the entirety of the alcohol he'd consumed the night before. He_ had _tried for more. He was remembering it a little too clearly, now. But that was all it had been. A proposition gently shot down with the promise that talking would be much more beneficial. "I really should go," Harry fought to say around the bile inching up his throat. "You have to get back to your dragons and I…. I could probably use a bath."_

 _His arms loosening to let Harry stand, Charlie laid back fully upon his pillow. "I'm not going to stop you if you want to leave, but I also don't have any desire to rush you out of here. My reason for saying 'no' last night was in no way intended to be a definite refusal." Harry turned to face him, but was unable to meet his eyes. "I think I'd have to be crazy not to like you, Harry. You're a nice guy. You're very fit. You…have saved not only the community I cherish, but also my family more times than I can name. So, please don't feel like I don't think the world of you. I really do._

" _But the thing is…you were drunk. There is no way you could have known what you were consenting to. I didn't want that on my conscience. And, uh…." Charlie cleared his throat, finally moving to sit up himself. He placed his feet on the floor, looking every bit like he was bracing himself. "The truth is I, um…don't much care for sex. But holding you last night and waking up beside you felt incredibly right. And…I would be glad to do that again if you might need it in the near future."_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: It's been awhile since my last update. Life has been kicking my ass (lots of work including some awesome off-site events where I got a chance to meet some amazing authors) and so has this chapter. But I finally figured out the direction! There should be about two more chapters coming. And I've had an idea for another sequel! So buckle up, this ride is just getting started!  
** **Please enjoy this chapter that was months in the making. And know that I would definitely love to hear ANY and ALL thoughts you have in the comments. Seriously. I don't care if it's even just a small 'wow' or 'that was crap'. I just like to hear from my readers. Love you all!**

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They were getting married in the countryside. It was literally the only request Charlie had during planning. He wanted to be surrounded by trees and flowers and fresh air. He wanted to dance under nothing but the naked stars.

Harry would have no reason to deny his fiancé such a request. Especially not once they'd found that perfect venue. A gorgeous stone barn surrounded by vegetation as far as the eye could see. Small and intimate, yet big enough to accommodate all those they wished to invite.

And now that they were here and this was the day, the flawlessness of it was almost breathtaking.

Hermione really had outdone herself. It was no surprise that she had every single small detail planned. Every decoration was perfectly placed. The caterers were bringing in a wonderful smorgasbord of comfort food. The florist had arranged the most minimal of pieces – sunset-colored foxglove blooms and patches of Queen Anne's lace. The table settings were a subtle and sophisticated stark white. Everything was dressed in a rainbow of colors ranging from soft peaches to crisp auburns.

"All dressed?"

Glancing down at his appearance, double checking that everything was in line, Harry nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Everything…." He sighed out a long breath of air, spinning to take in the full picture. "It all looks great, Hermione. Really. Thank you."

Beaming, Hermione enveloped her friend in a crushing hug. "You're…you're excited, right?" she whispered in his ear, attempting to straighten the hairs near his neck. "To be getting married?"

Somewhere inside of him, Harry was sure he _was_ excited. Perhaps underneath all the other numbed layers fighting to surface. His actual feeling, however…settled somewhere closer to apprehensive. After all the buildup and preparation, the day had finally come and there was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Very," he whispered back, glad she wasn't in a position to be able to read the real expression in his eyes. "Um…I should get back to my dressing room. Go over my vows again for the hundredth time." Harry pulled back, forcing a nervous smile.

Every single one of his nerves was on edge, right down to the tips of his fingers. He was aching for a strong drink. Something to ground him. Something to loosen the stiffness in his shoulders. Something to relax the subconscious nagging at the corner of his mind.

XxX

" _I don't want a big wedding."_

 _Light was just beginning to break through the gaps in the curtains. A bright beam cut a contrasting stripe across Draco's pale chest. Unable to help himself, Harry tangled their legs together and ran a finger across the sun spot. "I'm sure if you had your way, no one would be at the wedding at all."_

 _For the hundredth time since it was slipped onto his finger, Draco found his eyes drawn to the ring. They were engaged. It was…odd. Things still felt the same, and yet…. It was like nothing had changed. They were still the same people sleeping in the same bed where the sun still rose to pull them away from one another. And those worries…they were still hiding under the surface. They were, however, rather muted this morning. At least there was that to be thankful for. "Just you and me…," he whispered, his hand dropping heavy to his side._

" _You know that's not how weddings work, right?" Harry's laugh was too boisterous and happy considering they'd had nearly no sleep during the night. "You have to at least have an officiant and…witnesses. Sobbing mothers and proud fathers. Friends you haven't seen in forever congratulating you on a relationship they knew nothing about. Drunk people either hooking up with strangers or crying lonely in corner. It's all a part of the experience, isn't it?"_

 _Draco shrugged, gaze lost in the shadows on the wall. He hadn't been to many weddings. And since he'd become an adult, he hadn't attended a single one. Even so, he knew adamantly that he didn't want all of the fanfare usually associated with such occasions._

 _All he wanted was something small and intimate. He wanted it all to be about them. About their love. About their commitment to one another. He didn't want any of the drama Harry described._

 _He just wanted Harry._

 _If there was a way for it to just be the two of them for the rest or their lives, he would jump on the opportunity in a heartbeat._

XxX

"Oh shit, you came!"

Draco was on high-alert. Every single one of his senses felt tender, causing the smallest things to set his teeth on edge. For this reason, he supposed it was possible that he only thought the exclamation came across on a shout. It was entirely possible he was only imagining that every eye was upon him.

On the outside, Draco was absolutely refined. He looked _good_. Best dress robes. Long hair contained in a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. Nails manicured. Clean-shaven.

Irresistible.

On the inside, though, he felt like every piece of him was warring with another. He felt itchy in his own skin. It took every ounce of strength he had to keep cool. The dark blush upon being called out was luckily balanced out by a terrified paling of his already-ashen face.

"I _was_ invited," he intoned on barely a breath. Hermione was only a half-step away, letting Draco easily get away with his dropped voice.

"No, no…I know. I just…." Hermione tried her best to quickly replace the shocked slack of her jaw with a kind smile. "Rumor had it you were out of the country. I honestly didn't think you would make it."

It was already an accepted fact that Draco's presence was going to cause a bit of drama. The only thing that soothed his mixed feelings over that fear was how easy it was to talk to Hermione. Since the beginning of his time with Harry, she had been nothing but kind. Not that Draco had ever earned that kindness. Talking to her now was no different. She wasn't cold or harsh – and he wouldn't have blamed her if she had been. "Granger, you of all people are smart enough to know there are several modes of travel that can easily remedy that excuse."

A flurry he could neither identify as good or bad tangled in his stomach upon seeing his words redden the arches of her cheekbones. "Of course," Hermione muttered, eagerly turning her attention to the man standing just a skosh behind Draco. "And who's this?"

They had only just arrived and Shea looked like he was overwhelmed. His eyes were wide as saucers and he kept fidgeting with the cuffs of his newly tailored tux. He was seemingly unable to focus on just one thing. The floating foray of flowers along the ceremony space seemed particularly captivating. So was, apparently, the happy gathering of wizards in bright dress robes and witches in charmed summer dresses bustling around them. There was a lot to look at and only so much brain space for him to process it all.

Gently, so as not to startle his boyfriend, Draco slipped his fingers within Shea's. The brilliant blue of his eyes snapped back to meet icy grey, the tautness in his shoulders melting just a bit at the glimpse of familiarity. "This is my boyfriend Shea," he said, giving the man a tender kiss. "Shea, this is one of Harry's good friends – Hermione Granger."

Shea took in an eyeful of the brunette. She wore her hair short these days, her curls behaving more like tamed waves. The look definitely suited her. Gave her soft features a hard edge. She wore it combed back, paired impeccably with a peach-colored flowy chiffon dress and a dark red lip. All of this could have been described as stunning, if only she could keep a composed countenance. "Hello," Shea replied to her gaping expression. "Nice to, uh…. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Hermione sounded suddenly out of breath. She had been slightly flustered to start, but now she looked downright at a loss. It was becoming clear to Draco that she indeed hadn't expected to see him. And, most certainly, she hadn't expected to see him with someone else.

Unsure of what to make of this, Draco tugged Shea towards the ceremony space. "Well, we're going to grab a seat…."

"In the back," Hermione rushed to say, quick to steer them to the last row. "It would be better if…you were out of sightline. This is, after all, Harry's wedding. I have put too much work into this for you to cause a scene."

"He knows I might be here. He sent me an invitation. Why should my presence cause a scene?"

Draco received no answer, Hermione rushing away rather eagerly with a jumbled excuse about caterers. He sighed, but sat where he had been directed. It wasn't a bad idea to sit out of direct sight. It might make things a bit more bearable if he couldn't really see Harry giving himself away to another man.

XxX

Nearly a whole bottle of nicked champagne later, Harry was very close to regretting everything. He most certainly was regretting having popped that cork in the first place. Where he had hoped the alcohol would calm his nerves and relax his stiffness, it ended up having a wildly different effect. His heart was racing uncomfortably, feeling very much like it was giving its last few kicks.

"This doesn't look like something a person would do if they were glad to be getting married."

Harry hadn't heard Hermione enter the room and therefore didn't have time to hide the evidence. Especially not since he was desperately pulling gulps of the remaining champagne straight from the bottle. Ducking his head, he lowered the bottle from his lips and set it with a dull thunk on a table. "Just trying to quiet the nerves," he lied, sounding not in the least bit believable.

Hermione sighed heavily. "Well, we're starting in just a few minutes. Do you think you can keep your shit together to at least get through the ceremony?" He nodded slowly, giving her a rather forced smile. "Good. And, um…try not to pay attention to anything but Charlie, okay? Specifically…don't pay any mind to the guests…. And please don't ask me why because I won't tell you."

Ten minutes of prying later and Harry still had no idea what Hermione was trying to hide. She was tight-lipped and extremely fidgety. Her nervous composure was cutting right through the relaxed barrier the alcohol had created.

And so, with that potential grenade ready to go off at any moment, he followed his friend outside. The path from the exterior door of his dressing room to the ceremony space was littered with helpful, gold-glitter-encrusted red rose petals, scattered by his godson who walked before Hermione who walked before Harry.

They had decided to forgo the idea of 'walking down the aisle'. Instead, Harry and Charlie entered at the same time from opposite sides of the aisle. He smiled across the expanse of grass at his soon-to-be husband who was being led in by a giggly, little Victoire and his brother Bill. He looked remarkably put together considering the setbacks he had created. The dress robes fit him well, accentuating the lines of his hard-earned muscles. His long, rust-toned hair was even tied back and tamed in the effort to be presentable.

It was almost too-easy to forget any worries Harry might have with just a glimpse of that face. Those kind eyes and the genuine smile. The only person who could calm him just as tragically as the man he couldn't forget about could send him into a frenzy.

"This might be cliché," Charlie whispered once they finally stopped beneath the carefully constructed boughs of twisting vines, "but I swear…the sight of you just stole my breath away." He reached for Harry's hands, grasping his fingers with a gentle squeeze. His mouth was set into a dopey, infectious grin that settled easily into Harry's addled features.

"Well, if that's all the two of you need to say, let's just pronounce you married! Easy peasy, let them eat cake."

George's exclamation broke through, just as Harry started to realize they had been sharing an unwavering gaze for entirely too long of a moment. He bowed his head, heat crawling up the back of his neck. "Can it be that easy?" he joked back, his tongue noticeably thick. "Because I think I've forgotten my vows, anyway."

The gathered friends and family – the gawking, gaping crowd of people who expected Harry Potter's wedding to be picturesque and perfect – laughed politely. Like it was a joke. Like he hadn't really just lost the words he'd been religiously practicing for a month. Like he wasn't slurring his words and his eyelids weren't heavy.

Although he looked hurt at not getting to say his piece, Charlie seemed to recognize that panic in his partner's eyes. He shrugged, turning to grab the rings from Hermione. "You already know how I feel. Let's just get this over with. I _do_."

And just like that…they were married. They had forced George to sit through a course to get ordained for this. They had stayed up many sleepless nights writing their own vows for this. They had researched floral arrangements and special occasion enchantments for this. Just for this to be as simple as that.

All of that obsessing and worrying over nearly nothing.

The disappointment was written in every muscle of Hermione's face.

They exchanged the rings with relieved grins, sealing the deal with a rather permanent-feeling deep kiss. Harry couldn't shake the uneasy tingling on the back of his neck, even if this did feel like a happy ending. Even if this did feel like a solid and final commitment and even if that thought did soothe him a sizeable amount.

Even if he was one hundred percent sure that this was what he wanted.

It still felt like there was no going back. And that thought alone was daunting.

A feeling increased tenfold with a glimpse of stark blonde hair. A glimpse so faint Harry was sure he had imagined it. Just his mind making up hallucinations to get him second guessing himself.

"We can exchange our vows later tonight," Charlie whispered, close at Harry's side. "They're more for us than anyone else, anyway." He seemed so happy. So content. So in love with the man he was following down the aisle. And so oblivious to that man beginning to crack once again.

XxX

They were a sickeningly sweet couple.

Draco felt tangible bile creeping up his throat. The whole ceremony read mushy-gushy romantic from the start. The little fumbles and awkward mishaps. The way they rushed through everything this whole ordeal was supposed to be about. The way they kissed like there was nothing else in the world that could ever matter again. The laughs and smiles and soft touches.

"Draco, my hand."

He was losing his composure. In addition to crushing Shea's fingers between his own, a heated flush was now creeping up his neck. His jaw was set firm, betraying his jealousy to anyone looking for it. "Sorry," he muttered through painfully gritted teeth. He rolled his shoulders, attempting to force a wave of relaxation through his body. A useless gesture. He succeeded in letting go of his boyfriend's hand completely, but otherwise remained just as tense.

Everyone was clapping. The men were exiting their altar. Panic and annoyance fused together and sunk additional anger into Draco's features. He was sure that if anyone was going to divert their eyes from the happy couple, he would be quite the sight to see.

This was wrong.

It was all wrong.

Why was he here?

"We need to leave," he managed on a breathless whisper. At least, he was sure it was a whisper. With the rush of the erratic heartbeat in his ears, it was tough to hear anything else. "We…we can't…."

"Sugar, shh. Calm down." Shea's voice was nervous. People were staring. Draco felt like the world was spinning around him. It was a breakdown some time in the making. "We can leave, but you have to calm down. This isn't how you want to be remembered…."

It wasn't. Despite everything he had done and everything he had been through, he still had more dignity than this. His blood, his family, his name was worth more than anyone seeing him like this. Sucking in a quick breath of air, he forced another wave of relaxation. He leant down, forehead resting on his knees. Shea's fingers were cool against the back of his neck. Soothing and grounding.

Perfect.

Incomparable.

Everything he should want in that moment.

Everything he should want for the rest of his unworthy life.

And absolutely the opposite everything he desperately wished he could have.

XxX

" _Can you at least given me a reason why you're taking him? Why you think it's a brilliant idea to bring your current boyfriend to your_ ex _-boyfriend's wedding. As I've said numerous times, I'm still sure I would make a much better wingman…."_

" _Because I don't_ need _a wingman." Draco, who had been standing in front of his closet for a good ten minutes now, turned with a sigh and finally sat heavily upon the corner of his bed. They were leaving in a day and a half…and he still had no idea what he was wearing to this damn wedding. And that mattered. And he had refused to stress about these little things in front of Shea. Refused to let Shea see him shaken. Refused to be perceived as anything but solid and put-together._

 _There was no way he was going to let that man know these little things. The worries nestled deep into his veins, inching dangerously closer to his heart the closer that day got. The tiny obsessions over what to wear and what to say and what the feel._

 _Thankfully Astoria made an excellent confidant. "I just need someone who's going to hold me in check."_

" _You mean to say…you need someone who will fuck you into believing you're stable." Astoria rolled her eyes. "Draco, sweetheart, don't kid yourself. You're going to this wedding to wallow in what you gave away. To try and win that boy back before it becomes too late. Even though it already is_ way _too late…. I know you. I know that you, for some reason, lack the part of the brain that controls rational thinking. Either you try to hide it, and do a rather good job of it, or are unaware. Doesn't matter, really. Just know, I know you and I know this isn't going to work out the way you're hoping._

" _You're going to break yourself all over again…."_

 _Of course Draco was aware. He knew this uncomfortable fact a little too well. He was a destructive decision maker. He was a mess. He was fucked. Fucked up. Fucked over. Just_ fucked _. Possibly for that reason (or because of it), he was quite confident that this trip back home was the kind of closure he needed. He needed to see Harry moving on in an incredibly real way. He needed to jar himself into forgetting._

 _Needed a reason to let it all go._

 _To move on._


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: HAHAHA this took forever to update. I'm so sorry... Being a manager in a retail environment around the holidays leaves zero freetime. But that's over for another year, so here we go! And even now that it's finished, this chapter, I'm feeling iffy on it. Could definitely use some feedback here. A comment and some kudos would not go unappreciated!**

 **Now, just a note - this is the second to last chapter. The next one will be the end the heartbreak. And there will be a...happy(?) ending. An ending, for sure. And another sequel (a sequel to the sequel!) is already in the works. And I'm so very excited for it! Without further ado, please enjoy!**

* * *

"Uncle Dray?"

Draco's heart was pounding terrifyingly loud in his ears. It was a shock he could hear anything outside of it. It was a shock to hear his name so clearly shouted across the heads between his seat and the aisle. It was a _shock_ to be recognized in the midst of a breakdown by someone so innocent….

"Uncle Dray!"

Before he even had a chance to compose himself, a seven-year-old boy barreled towards him. Full of energy and excitement. His eyes shining with more emotions than he was even capable of processing at his age. Teddy wriggled deep into Draco's chest, tiny arms circling his neck in a surprisingly strong grip. "Hey, kiddo…," he whispered, unable to resist the urge to sink right in. Unable to resist pulling the boy closer. Unable to resist snuggling into the forgotten familiarity. Unable to resist burying his nose into the shock of turquoise hair, the freshly shampooed scent gnawing at his heartstrings.

He smelt like home.

The boy's body shook with rough sobs, his words garbled against Draco's now-wet dress shirt. "Where did you go? You left and Harry said you weren't coming back. You left on my birthday!" The exclamation was accentuated with a feeble slap to Draco's collarbone. "He wouldn't say where you went. Where did you _go_?"

Harry hadn't dealt with this. Of course he hadn't. "I had to go, Teddy…." Feeling very much like he was ripping his own skin off, Draco pulled back and swiped his thumb over the tracks of the boy's tears. "I'm so very sorry. I never meant to hurt you." Consoling the boy had never been his strong suit. _Parenting_ had never been his strong suit. Draco had always found it difficult to locate a good reference point to push off of. His own upbringing had been incredibly stiff.

But this? This suffocating emotion and apologetic babble? This felt like everything he was missing out on. This felt like he was missing out.

"Draco…. Your mother must be overjoyed to have you home again."

It was all too much. Too many people. Too many emotions. Too many voices in his head competing with one another. The will to leave was still heavy in his muscles, but the urgency of it was dissipating fast. "I'm not- We're, uh…just visiting." Draco tried his best to force a smile up at his aunt Andromeda. He pulled a bit out of Teddy's embrace. The woman was watching them with concern, her gaze hastily flitting off ahead. Like she was afraid to be caught. Like speaking to him was a dangerous action. "We're only back for the wedding."

"Of course," Andromeda muttered, holding her hand out towards her grandson. "Come along, sweetheart. We should head inside for the reception."

Teddy sniffled back the rest of his tears, pulling away and settling back at his grandmother's side. "Uncle Dray will come, too, right? I want him to sit at our table!"

There was a refusal edging at the corner of Andromeda's lips. Draco could hear her silent protest. She was practically screaming at him with that cutting glare. "Edward, darling…I'm sure Hermione's arrangement already has them sitting at a different t-"

"Miney won't mind! Nana, _please_."

The woman conceded with a curt nod, hoisting the boy up onto her hip. "Draco can come sit with us if he chooses to."

"But, Nana!" The tears were back, ugly and accompanying a full-blown tantrum. They were one of the few people left in the ceremony space, but Andromeda still looked frantically around with heat darkening her cheeks. "NANA, _please_! I don't wan' him to leave again! _Please_ makehimsitwithus!"

Draco watched their hasty retreat, the anxious stitch in his heart beginning to fade. "Is that your ex's…nephew?"

"No, not exactly." Sighing heavily, Draco turned and tried to resist the urge to crumple into Shea. An absolutely futile effort. His voice muffled against Shea's chest, Draco tried his best to explain. To give an answer without giving the whole story. Without revealing the trash hiding in his past. "He's…. Edward, uh…Teddy is Harry's godson. His parents…they were close to Harry. I never really met the mother, but she was my cousin. Anyway, they died. They died when Teddy was young, just a baby, and left Harry in care of him."

"So he has a kid." Shea frowned like that was a heavy subject. Like that offended him in some way. Like it was just a bit too much. "You really were committed to this guy, weren't you? A kid and everything. Jesus…."

XxX

 _It was quite possible that Draco Malfoy hadn't been the worst thing for Harry._

 _Hermione didn't even hardly recognize her friend any longer. He had recovered from the destructive tailspin, so that was good. But he still wasn't himself. He was broken. He was missing something._

 _As much as she might not want to admit it, Malfoy might have been holding him together._

" _Hey, Ron?"_

 _It was a typical quiet night in their home. An intimate cottage on the outskirts of a cozy village in Halstead. Ron was settled into the sofa, intently tuned into the reporting of a Quidditch match coming over the wireless. On par with her evenings of late, Hermione was obsessing over their best friend's wedding. She had countless sheets of paper strewn across the coffee table, sitting on the floor with her legs crossed beneath it. Tonight's focus was on sending the invitations out. Her hair was a mess indicative of deep thought and she was already a full bottle deep into her wine stores._

 _Ron gave a simple nod in Hermione's direction, showing that he had at least heard. She sighed heavily, drawing a little more of his attention. "I need to have a real conversation with you for a moment. Is it possible to turn the volume down for a bit?"_

 _A rather finite direction. After so many years being friends and those more intimate as of late, Ron knew good and well that she really wasn't asking. It wasn't really a suggestion, more of a state of fact. Slowly, he dialed down the volume to a barely audible level and turned to face Hermione. "What are we obsessing over this time?"_

" _I don't think Harry should marry your brother."_

 _The words had been rattling around in her head for weeks. With the opportunity finally presenting itself, they rushed out of her like volatile word vomit. In a second flat, Ron's teasing grin fell and all humor slid right out of his eyes. "And what exactly is wrong with Charlie?"_

 _There was absolutely nothing wrong with Ron's older brother. Charlie was a very kind man who only had Harry's best interests at heart. But he was a healer, and not in the magical sense of the word. He just liked to_ fix _things, namely people and dragons._

 _Before Harry, that project was Ginny. She was a bit of a continual hapless, hopeless mess of a wanderer. She wanted to try everything before settling into the rest of her life. Charlie had a couch to crash on and a shoulder to lean on whenever she needed them._

 _And he was always coaching George through something. Charlie had become something akin to Fred's replacement, in some respects. Not that there could ever_ be _such a replacement._

" _Nothing," Hermione whispered, taking a long pause to calculate her words. To find a vein of reasoning that Ron might be able to follow. "Nothing at all. Charlie is wonderful. But…not for Harry…."_

 _By far, this wasn't the first time they had a conversation about their best friend's love life. Ron knew exactly what was coming. Hermione was a strong advocate for Draco Malfoy as a changed man. For some reason…. For the entirety of that relationship and the grieving after it ended, she had been trying to convince her boyfriend/husband why having that man around wasn't the end of the world. He had yet to come around. Unsurprisingly…._

 _An unattractive grimace crossed Ron's features. "Hermione, don't. Don't even say it."_

" _He was_ better _with that git. You can't deny that."_

 _Ron's answer came in the form of a drastic increase in volume on his match. He could very well deny it. He was rather a king at that sort of thing – convenient denial._

 _Luckily Hermione was also the queen at proving people wrong._

XxX

"What the _fuck_ is Draco Malfoy doing at my wedding?!"

Hermione jumped and took a sheepish step backward. Harry had been so calm. It hadn't even seemed like he had seen the man. He had even managed to excuse them away from Charlie without a single tremor. But now that they were safely back in his dressing room, the rage was in full force.

Ron caught on straight away, crossing his arms like a disappointed father. "Bloody hell, Hermione, you didn't..."

"I'm sorry," she whispered meekly. Her tear ducts stung with regret. "I made a mistake. I was wine drunk and doubtful and just….I guess wanted you to be sure-"

In nervous reflex, Harry's fingers raked through his unruly hair before he held a single digit up to cut off his friend. "Do you _think_ I would honestly have married Charlie if I wasn't _sure_ about it?"

"To be _sure_ ," she continued pointedly, "that you were entirely done with Malfoy. I didn't want you to make a mistake. But I didn't think he would actually show." Hermione finished in a whisper she desperately hoped wouldn't carry. "And I didn't think he would bring a date."

That stung, but Harry exerted more of his practiced calm before hissing, " _Listen_ to me, Hermione – I am one hundred percent _over_ Draco Malfoy," and storming out.

That was one hundred percent a lie.

Harry found Charlie waiting for him not far from where he had been left. He forced a smile back on, strolling with fake ease back to his side. "Everything alright?" his new husband asked gently.

"Yeah, everything's good. Just wanted to, uh, thank them for their help again."

"You're sure that had nothing to do with the fact that your ex was sitting in the back row?"

"Of course not. I mean…sure it was a bit of a shock, but I really don't care that he's here. For whatever reason he came…. Draco is the last thing on my mind. Promise."

Harry's lies were swiftly becoming more and more obvious.

"I don't believe you." Charlie caught Harry's panicked look just as he tried to look away. "But that's just fine. You two had history. _Have_ history. And I can't fault you for that." He was so calm. So understanding. So… _perfect_. He was perfect and he was everything Harry deserved. "You know, you really should catch up with him. It would probably be good for the both of you."

There was a protest on the tip of Harry's tongue. He wanted so badly to shake his head and walk away. To make certain he was heading in the opposite direction of danger for the rest of the day and into the night. But when the chance came to stammer a quick excuse, all he could do was freeze in his tracks. Charlie had shouted the man's name, turning heads throughout the barn. Every single organ inside of Harry squirmed at once upon seeing those cheeks redden in response. He was uncomfortable. Caught off-guard. Off-balance. Shaken.

And the man next to him looked like an absolute solid rock.

"Hermione told me you brought a date. Which is a bit rude, don't you think? Considering you didn't even bother to RSVP for yourself." Harry didn't give chance for pleasantries. He didn't want to know how things had been. He didn't want to hear where Draco had been all this time.

All he wanted was to rage and snap. They had always been comfortable like that.

"We have plenty of food, Harry. It's really no-"

"I know you were afraid that the awe and spectacle of you had ruined me for all other men. And here I am, happy to report that just isn't the case. This is Shea."

Harry was certain Draco felt the same way. Full of anger. Full of spite. Full of words sharp as shattered glass and feelings just as fragile.

The air was buzzing and felt like needles. It was sharp and teetered dangerously on the edge of toxic. All four of them looked visibly bristled and none of them knew just where to go from there.

"Sh…shall we eat?" Charlie's eyes a moment ago had been wild with mischief. He had been so sure of himself. But now, dealing with the repercussions of his smart mouth, he looked positively terrified. It was clear he had thought himself a better match against this old part of his husband's life.

Grateful for the excuse, Harry nodded and briskly walked to the buffet tables. He settled in line behind Ron who, of course, was shamelessly loading up his own plate. "I'm going to murder him," Harry muttered.

"Shoulda done that years ago, mate."

"I was talking about your brother. And possibly also your wife…."

XxX

The introduction had been messy. It came off desperate. Like Draco was trying to prove something. And perhaps he was. He did want everyone to know that his decision to run had ended well. But he needed to find a way to say that without actually coming right out and saying it….

"I found you a spot, Uncle Dray." Like a bad dream, Teddy sidled right back up to Draco's leg. As if he wasn't already feeling vulnerable. He looked down with a cracked smile, unable to resist running his fingers through his turquoise hair. And also unable to ignore the blonde starting to infect those strands. "You can sit by me."

He nodded, following the boy blindly. His hands linked both in Teddy's and in Shea's behind him. But if he closed his eyes for just a moment….

"See? Right here. Right by me and by Harry."

His brows shooting up far higher than dignified, Draco stopped right in his tracks. He looked ahead at the table, sure he was about to walk into some sort of trap. "Now, Teddy…."

The boy looked back with a gleeful smile and iced over Draco's heavy heart. "I bet he's excited you're back. I am. I'm excited."

Only a monster could dash a young child's hopes and dreams. Only a monster could shatter an elated, inflated heart. And as much as Draco hated himself – as much as other people hated _him_ – he was _not_ a monster. He couldn't bring himself to break the excitement in those eyes. "I wouldn't be so sure," he muttered before resuming walking towards the table. "Shouldn't you be off getting your supper?

"Nana was fixing me a plate. She told me to sit down and stay put. But I had to go find you. But I'm back! So it's okay." Grinning like he had not a single care in the world, Teddy stopped at the circular table in the center of the room. He pulled back a chair, nodding towards it with a never-fading grin. "Sit. Harry'll be back soon."

Draco slowly lowered himself into the chair. The nameplate stated that he was in Teddy's seat, causing him to wonder just who he was displacing from the table by being here. "I'll get us something to eat," Shea muttered, most likely to give himself something to do. As the thought had crossed Draco's mind, he was sure his boyfriend was also wondering just where he would fit into this table setting.

"What is this?"

"Uncle Dray is back!" Teddy scrambled up into the spot set for his grandmother, not a care in the world. "He decided to sit with us."

Out of cowardly instinct, Draco ducked his head. Harry was sitting beside him and it was too much. The proximity and the way he smelt like he always did and that jaw set in anger. He couldn't lie – it felt right to feel that radiation of heat again. It felt right to know the anger was aimed towards him. "I didn't want to break his heart…."

Harry's scoff burned like acid. "You've already done that," he hissed, just so they could hear. Keeping the fight between the two of them. Which was rather kind, considering what Draco had done. He deserved to be burned at the stake for all to see. "Teddy, dear," he said with a soft voice, "your uncle Draco isn't back. He's visiting."

"You heard Harry. It's only temporary…." Draco smiled softly to ease the blow. This didn't matter, however. He still saw a little light go out behind the boy's eyes. If he wasn't so young, Draco would swear he could see a tremor of fear replace that momentary relief.

"Tuck in, sweetheart." Andromeda set a plate down before Teddy, setting him back on a track containing age-appropriate responsibilities. "What, are we all scooting down a seat? Draco could have sat on the other side of the table."

His ears going red, Draco ducked a little further and wished he could sink out of existence completely. "I apologize for the inconvenience, Andromeda. The boy insisted."

She waved it off with a sour face, following the trend of sitting a spot just next to where she had been assigned. Not long after Andromeda sat down, the rest of the table filled up, as well.

They were uncomfortably enclosed. It was all-too-obvious that he didn't belong, too. Everyone was staring (or it felt that way…). Shea was seated directly across the table, just out of reach for comfort. It turns out that their presence had forced Charlie's parents to another table. A pang of guilt added to all of Draco's already stifling emotions.

"So, Draco…." Harry's elbow bumped against Draco's. "What've you been up to lately?" Neither one of them apologized. "Rumor has it, you've been in America." Nor did they when their knees knocked beneath the table. "Why America?"

Nor did they when neither one of them pulled their leg away.

This was too easy. It was too simple and too comfortable to just slip right back into feeling safe next to this man. Too right. And too wrong.

Draco cleared his throat, throwing Hermione a tight smile. She meant well. She was only trying to diffuse tension. She was only trying to salvage a wedding Draco could very easily ruin. "Astoria. Uh…Greengrass. I went to stay with her for a bit. And a bit turned into…something more." He shifted his gaze to Shea, catching his uneasy shifting. "I met someone. I met Shea and fell in love."

It took every single ounce of restraint Draco had to try and ignore the hasty way Harry gulped at his drink beside him.

"And, erm, where are you from, Shea?" Hermione was still desperately trying to ease the tension. To cut through the suffocating air and try to put everyone into a state of ease. But no matter how much she spoke, it was certain that this wasn't going to happen.

"United States," the man muttered, trying to shirk off the attention.

"Oh, obviously. But where? Where did you grow up?"

Shea was steadily turning a deep shade of red. His gaze was desperately latched upon Draco's, wordlessly screaming at him. Cursing him for coming. Cursing him for creating such a volatile environment. Cursing him for dragging him into the middle of this. "Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. Born on the reservation, but…my mother raised me in the city. And…the day I turned eighteen, I moved to California."

"So, being Native American, how did that shape your schooling?" Hermione settled easily into her favorite pastime – showing off her wealth of knowledge for whoever would listen. "The Wampanoag and the Narragansett tribes exchanged a wealth of knowledge over their magic in exchange for learning wandwork. They helped to kick off Ilvermorny's creation. I can only imagine what you learned both at school and from your family."

Before she could prattle on anymore, Draco and Shea broke out with rushed, nervous answers in direct unison.

"I went to public school…?"

and

"He's just a _Muggle_ , Granger!"

The tension building up Draco's spine violently snapped. Before he could even attempt to hold it back, his words lashed out and their effect was instant. For the second time in less than ten minutes, his words extinguished a light from the eyes of someone he cared about

Swallowing a forgotten mouthful of food, Hermione eagerly nodded and placed her hand on Shea's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, I just assumed…. I think we _all_ just assumed…. I mean," she giggled to cover the shake of her voice, "Malfoy, er – Draco never really seemed like one to branch out…."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: And here we are - the end! Sorta... The end of part two, how about that? And I promised a happy-ish ending. It's about as happy as I can manage given the characters' penchants for heartbreak.  
I have bits of part three mapped out already, but nothing written yet. Nothing fully formed. An update should come within the next week, maybe. Providing that the muses help out even the smallest bit. In the meantime, please feel free to leave a comment with your thoughts on this chapter and where you hope the next one will go. Hope this tears all of you apart as drastically as it has me!**

* * *

"You've met the Malfoy family, haven't you? Draco's parents? They're not really the Muggle-warm type, are they?"

Hermione just kept prattling on. Draco had cleared his throat a total of six times and thrown a constant glare her way for the past few minutes and she just clearly wasn't getting it. On the bright side…all of Shea's fears had been confirmed and Draco hadn't had to do any of the dirty work.

If that could be considered a bright side….

"Hey, Uncle Dray?"

He couldn't pull his eyes away from the train wreck directly across the table. "What is it, Teddy?" he muttered, merely raising an eyebrow and gripping his champagne flute dangerously hard.

"I need the toilet, will you take me?"

Frowning, Draco turned to look down at the young boy. He was probably old enough that he could use the facilities alone. But the look in his eyes…. This was clearly part of his master plan to never let Draco out of his sight again. "As long as that's okay with your, er – with Harry?"

"You can go ahead and take him to the one in my dressing room," Harry said softly, his voice much kinder than expected. And not in a fake, restrained way.

 _He's probably just trying to show that he's the better person_ , Draco thought as he stood with a gentle 'thank you'. _If I keep snapping at every little test, everyone will believe he is, too._

Teddy led him by the hand, his grip insistently firm, down a hallway off the bar to the last door marked "Private". Just inside the room was a small restroom and Draco was grateful for it's proximity. The room smelt like Harry and if he had to walk any further into it, he was sure to do something embarrassing. Like finding his discarded clothes and giving them a deep sniff….

With a grin, Teddy ordered Draco to stay by the sink while he disappeared behind the partition to the toilet. He chuckled, did as he was told, and leaned back against the wall to wait. "So, Teddy…how have things been since I, uh, since I left?" he asked cautiously, watching under the partition as the boy's little (but so much bigger than they had been years ago) feet swung at the sides of the porcelain base.

The boy was silent for a long beat. Like he was choosing his words wisely. "Harry was sad for a long time," he finally said solemnly. "I had to live with Nana. And she doesn't have as many toys or sweets…and she doesn't read with fun voices. But it was okay. Harry needed to get better. And he did and now I'm in my room again. I have a pet turtle. Oh! And we painted my walls green! Did you know that's my favorite color?"

Tears prickled the corners of Draco's eyes and he tried desperately to blink them away. "I did not," he muttered after an uncomfortable clear of his throat. "Green is a good color." The vivid picture of absinthe eyes flashed behind his eyelids when he blinked. "What's your turtle's name?"

"Bob."

Despite his best efforts, Draco was crying. There were full, thick streams running down his cheeks and his bemused laugh came out embarrassingly watery. "Oh yeah? That's a…that's a good name."

"Charlie gave him to me, but I chose his name. Charlie's good with animals. He raises dragons. He says he's like a mum to them. Some of them anyway. The ones he rescues."

"Charlie's a good guy, then? He's nice to you…and to Harry?"

It was Teddy's turn to pause. His feet quit their playful kicking and a long moment later, he hopped back down to the floor. The sound of a flush accompanied the scuff of his dress shoes as he solemnly exited the stall. "He sleeps in your bed," he whispered quietly, like it was a secret. Like he thought Draco wasn't supposed to know. Or like he was afraid it would hurt the man's feelings. "The one you left behind with the pretty flowers cut into the wood parts. I told Harry you would probably be mad, but he said if you wanted it back he would give it to you. But now that you're back, you could just come home and it could be yours again."

"Teddy, I'm-"

"Charlie's not home a lot, anyway. You could have your room back. Harry sometimes gets lonely, so he wouldn't say 'no'. And when Charlie's home, he could sleep on the couch."

"T-"

"Or…or you could tell him to move out. It could just be the three of us again. Charlie's nice, but sometimes-"

"Teddy, I'm not coming back!"

"Why not?!" A moment ago, Teddy looked so full of hope and wonder. He looked like every piece of his life was about to come back together again. But not anymore. The instant Draco had shouted, the boy's small features screwed up first into anger, shifted quickly to frustration, and then again to a deep sadness. The subtle, easy to miss streaks of blonde in his hair faded back to a brilliant turquoise. His hands were little fists at his sides and he looked quite close to a full-on tantrum. "Don't you miss me?" he asked, his voice back to that heartbreaking whisper. "Don't you still love us?"

Draco was right on the edge of breaking, as well. He nearly let all of his feelings out on a mere boy who couldn't come close to comprehending half of them. But the door opened just in time right beside him and remarkably he was able to throw up a less telling expression in the heat of that moment.

"Have you finished?"

At the sight of his godfather, Teddy also put himself back together. He smiled, his hands relaxing and his indignation fading for now. "I just have to wash my hands," he said, standing on tiptoe to do so at the sink.

"Run along back to your nan. We'll be there in a moment," Harry instructed as soon as the boy was finished. Teddy nodded obediently and did as he was told, a new slump to his shoulders. The weight of something he was far too small to carry now settled deep into his soul. "What did you say to him?" Harry demanded the instant the door was closed once again. He looked angry, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. There was a softness in the way he stared at Draco. A pliancy.

A weakness near to exposure.

The tears had thankfully dried by now. Draco was sure his eyes were still red, but he refused to check in the mirror. He refused to show a break in his already fragile composure. "We were only catching up. He told me about Bob the Turtle. Apparently he loves the color green. Oh, and I've been told you're still using my bed frame…."

Rolling his eyes, Harry wedged a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Drawing attention to his clothes. To the fit. To his figure. To the fact that he hadn't changed one bit. "By all means, take it back. You're the one who left it." A familiar cloud of smoke filled the air between them and Draco couldn't help but to breathe it in. "Seemed a waste not to use it, since it was there."

Draco had to divert his eyes. He had to stop breathing through his nose. He had to still himself and try to pretend this wasn't getting to him. That he wasn't aching deep inside for any touch or kind word from this man. "Keep it," he muttered. "Consider it a wedding present, if you want."

It happened fast. The air shifted suddenly and the tension between them melted into something neither man could admit they missed. In a flurry, the cigarette was on the ground and Draco's head hit the wall. Harry's hands were fists in his shirt, but his touch was anything but menacing. Rough, yes. And harsh. And heavy. But calm and calculating, their faces mere inches apart when he whispered, "I think I'd rather have something else…."

Draco's vision was swimming from the impact. He was certain this must be causing him to hallucinate. There really was no other explanation as to why Harry was closing the distance between them. Why those lips were on his neck. Why those fingers were working at the buttons of his dress shirt. Why everything he had thrown away was suddenly coming back to him in a whirlwind of twisted déjà vu.

Of course this was a possibility Draco had turned around in his head multiple times since deciding to come here. It was almost inevitable that if the two of them were left alone for a mere moment, they were likely to hook up. None of this, however, changed the fact that Draco was certain he must be dreaming. Somehow. He must have passed out and this was just...a sick nightmare. And if it was a dream, well then there should be no consequences. So why not just commit? Why not go all in and take what he'd been hungering for these last three years?

"You're an absolute cheese, Potter. So damn predictable."

"Is that your way of telling me to stop? Do you not want me to fuck you, _Malfoy_?" Harry's teeth had settled into Draco's neck now, his fingers daring to explore a little further. "Because I'll stop if you ask. I'll leave you here with your cock hard and dripping. If you want, that is…."

If only Draco had that kind of restraint. "And why the bloody hell would I want that?" he snapped back, no longer able to remain a passive partner.

The kiss a moment later was the most dangerous part. Sex was easy. It was just a simple release. But this kiss – slow and languid, tongue skimming teeth and shallow breath intermingling – was positively ruining. How were things supposed to go back to normal after this?

From there, it all happened way too fast. Trousers were dropped and lips desperately clung to anything they could find. Necks, eyelids, collarbones, newly exposed chest hair. They whispered feelings kept in secret for years, soft 'I love you's and demure swears. Despite being totally alone, neither could help but to make as little noise as possible. They shouldn't be doing this. Shouldn't have this. These actions and sensations should be long forgotten, but they just couldn't help themselves.

They were addicts, doomed to fall prey to this given any chance at all.

"Prep?" Harry asked breathlessly, gently easing Draco back towards the counter.

Draco shook his head, shimmying up onto the cold surface. He kicked his legs free of his pants and trousers and pulled Harry closer by the waistband of his own. "Shea and I…blew off a little steam this morning. Just cast a lubrication spell. I'll be fine." The cool, unforgettable sensation of the spell going to work pulled a sharp gasp straight from Draco's chest. Simultaneously, Harry let out a satisfied groan, pressing his slick cock right up against Draco's puckered hole.

Shea was in no way an unsatisfactory partner. He had an ample girth and length and did wonders to satisfy Draco's needs. Remarkably, he was also rather attentive and kind, never once having tried to push them into anything uncomfortable.

But he was never able to fill Draco up quite like this.

He lost all ability for speech, an unintelligible sound squeezing up from his throat. Every one of his nerves were on the absolute edge. Every single decision he had made in the last several years came down to this right here. This hasty fuck in a public toilet.

It was all too familiar to even be ironic, at this point.

Harry shifted angles above him, thrusting in hard and fast. Like he was starved of this. His lips were everywhere, hungrily taking all that he could. Testing and tasting and searching. Trying to find sensations he once knew. Mapping out a landscape from faded memories.

"Does he fuck you like this?" he whispered, teeth rough against Draco's earlobe. He elicited a breathless rush of air in response. It was enough of an answer. The way he was unfolding for this man was enough of an answer. "Does he make you _feel_ like this?"

Nobody made Draco feel like _this_.

There were unmistakable tears in Harry's voice. This was what Draco had done. Three years later, this was the culmination of his actions. Feeling a lump growing in his own throat, he pushed up off the solid surface. He fully trusted Harry to support them both, having proved his strength many, many times before.

And Harry returned that trust with another rough push against the wall. There was already a bruise forming at the back of his head from the first time, but the fact that it smarted felt like just punishment. He deserved this. He deserved anything Harry wanted to do to him. Closing his eyes against the dazed light specks, Draco curled in tighter to the warm body. All of those familiar scents – tobacco and cologne that smelt faintly of oranges and pure, carnal musk – hit him like a brick wall. And something else…. Something fermented and fruity, nearly septic. The raw stench of alcohol.

It was quite possible Harry was drunk.

Could this even be happening if he were sober?

Just as he was beginning to question what they were doing, a rough pound to his prostate erased every single protest he had. In that moment, he couldn't bring himself to care. His lips formed Harry's name like a soft prayer as he suddenly reached his defiant end. In that flat instant, every single one of his nerve-endings went numb. The shock of what they'd just done hit him like a brick wall. Harry was still pumping away, grunting towards his own finish. He hadn't yet had a chance to fully realize the gravity of their actions.

But Draco had. And Draco felt nothing but a pit of shame deep inside of him.

Harry's end was hot and messy. Draco felt it fill him, both strangled and eased by the sensation. Shea always used condoms. Shea never made him feel like this. Shea never fucked him like this.

Shea could never compare to this.

"I want to go back and change it all," Draco found himself whispering in their awkward silence. He stole a kiss he shouldn't have, reveling in the last few seconds of feeling so complete. "I just want to go back…."

The change in Harry was abrupt. The glazed look in his eyes sobered and he almost violently let Draco's feet hit the floor. "You're too fucking _late_ ," he hissed. "I literally just got married, Dray." The pet name stung and Draco rushed to right his trousers to cover his visible wince. "There is no going back. You missed your shot."

"Then why the hell did you fuck me?"

"It's been awhile since I've felt that," Harry mumbled, nearly inaudible. He was also busying himself with redressing, either not wanting or not able to meet Draco's eyes. If he had, they surely would have been able to see all the shadows of doubts plaguing each another. "And I've never been good at resisting you."

There was a tumor made up of everything he wanted to say and knew he shouldn't blocking Draco's throat. He swallowed hard, performing a quick cleansing spell and taking a step towards the door. "I should really…go…." It was becoming painfully obvious that he shouldn't have come in the first place. Why did he think this was a good idea? How had he imagined he would still be whole after this?

"Hey, Malfoy? That guy you're with?" Draco's grip on the door handle froze. "I really hope you're happy with him. And I hope he's good to you. Good _for_ you." A painful chill surged down Draco's spine. "I really hope he's worth it…. I hope he's worth all of the pain you caused me."

 _He isn't_ , Draco thought. There was no way he could voice it. There was no way he could admit that in any tangible sense.

Not without breaking down completely.

"Congratulations on your marriage, Potter," Draco somehow managed to squeak out. He didn't stick around to hear a response, if there was one. He couldn't even manage a last look before he resolved to walk away forever.

They had said all they could with their bodies. This was closure, or as close to it as they could come. This was it. The end.

Harry watched him go with that now common darkness clouding his heart once again. For just those few minutes, it had faded. His mind was quieter. His breathing felt real and natural. Like he wasn't having to fight every second to keep himself alive.

But now that it was over….

Now that it was all over _again_ ….

" _Fuck_ ," he hissed under his breath, taking extra time to wash his hands and face before leaving as well. Even with the cleansing spells, Harry could still smell him. That familiar scent of him was still in his nose, clouding his mind.

Just when he felt like he could live without this man….

Just when he felt like he could be whole again….

"Everything okay?"

And here was _this_ man. This good man who stayed and healed and loved. This man who deserved so much better. This man who didn't deserve to be cheated on at his own damn wedding.

Forcing a bemused smile, Harry nodded and allowed himself to be folded into Charlie's full embrace. "Malfoy's a git is all."

"We already knew that, though, didn't we?" Charlie teased. "I mean, just because the two of you were together for a bit, doesn't change that. Not even the Chosen One can fix that level of arsery."

Harry faked a chuckle, pulling back to meet his husband's pale blue eyes. They were as kind as ever, not even suspecting what had just transpired one bit. He was so trusting. "'Arsery' isn't a word, even if it does quite fit him. I think what you meant was 'broodishness'."

"Or 'buggeridity'."

"Oh, yes, that's a good one. That might be the winner." Unable to help himself, Harry's scanned the barn quickly. Not that he cared if Malfoy heard. Or if he was even still here….

"He left, by the way." Harry's cheeks darkened at being caught. "If that's who you're looking for. Left in quite a hurry, actually. Yelled at poor Hermione first. Told her she needed to learn when to shut up. Which isn't entirely false…. Then snatched up his American plaything and stormed straight out. Whatever the two of you talked about must've had him rattled. He didn't even say goodbye to Teddy. That'll be a fun mess to clean up once he realizes."

The smile was getting harder to fake. It felt like everyone was staring. They should. It was his wedding and the two of them should be the center of attention. But right now, it just felt suffocating. It felt too much like judgement. "Can you take me somewhere quiet?" Harry whispered, the sound of his voice cracking filling him with disgust.

Charlie grinned at him like he had already planned for as much. And he probably had. "I have the perfect place in mind." Kissing the top of Harry's head, he gently let him go. He took him by the hand, leading them out of the barn and into the newly fallen night. The night sky was their only light once the door shut behind them and the openness of that felt like the greatest comfort Charlie could give.

There was no music. There were no people. There were no responsibilities to attend to or airs to put on. There was nothing.

Out there beneath the stars and the brilliant orange of the moon, they could just barely make out one another's face from inches away. Harry settled easily into his husband's arms, that strangling feeling muting for just the moment. When Charlie was there, it was easy to pretend. It was easy to try and forget. When he was close, Harry felt fixed and safe. He felt like there was nothing else he could ever want for in this world.

He felt like everything could be okay if they stayed this way for the rest of eternity.

He felt like he could never again need Draco Malfoy to feel complete.

And it was a lie. But dancing here in this dream Charlie had laid out for them, it felt like it could be real.

And maybe it could be.

Maybe one day.


End file.
